Fall of Demons
by AngelaMay234
Summary: She has no memory, but knows who he is. Once she regains it, she reveals a horrid plan. Will they be able to fight this, or is the course of their future set in stone?
1. False Mistakes

_**She doesn't have a memory, a name, or a past, yet she somehow knows his name. He doesn't know her, yet feels that he has seen her, held her before. But he also fights to forget the past, so he'll never have to recall what he lived through. She slowly begins to win his heart, but can he trust himself to love again?**_

* * *

**Preface**

False Mistakes

The silver tears made barely a sound when they hit the cold wood. The dark eyes that shed them were closed tightly in shame, yet also burned with fury. He had just witnessed his best friend die, and had been the only one to hear his last words. "Please, take care of my family…" every sound had cut deeply into his heart, increasing the rage he felt toward Jon's killer. The others had all ruled it an accident, but there was no way the arrow's course could have been altered by the wind, as there had been none. Jonathan Brisby had been a great mouse, freeing his comrades from their prison at NIMH; without him they would have either died in the shafts, or been forced to go back. And now he was gone.

_That monster, _the words were directed at a Genre, the worst family in the colony. Their father, Jenner, was known to be black-hearted, but no one ever thought that he'd corrupt the minds of his children, as well as their hearts. His oldest, Cadrian, was almost his mirror image, aside from his mother's brown eyes and soft fur. He had been the one to steal Jon from their world. He was an archer, one of few the guard had, and an excellent shot. He 'd been outside practicing with the others, when'd noticed Jonathan going toward a large rock. They all knew that his home lay beneath it, and that he had three young children. His wife, a lovely mouse of normal blood, was pregnant with a fourth. He would never meet his youngest.

The shaft had missed the target, instead slicing through Jon's neck, nearly tearing his head from his shoulders. Blood had instantly begun pooling beneath him, his gasps growing weak as his heart slowed in its beating. Justin had been unable to stop it, but had arrived just in time to hear his last words. He'd whispered them, letting go of his final breath. Though he'd been furious, Captain Andrews knew it would only bring trouble if he'd confronted Cadrian then. He'd had to wait until night, when the self-defense training courses gave him the opportunity. Genre was his normal partner, and he'd just barely avoided a broken neck. Because of his size people often forgot just how dangerous their Captain could be, especially when enraged. But Cadrian wasn't the only killer they had in their midst.

_Why did I let it control me? _His body shook, mind bringing up vivid images of tattered, wrangled bodies coated in blood, their lifeless eyes held in frozen expressions of terror. Only they knew death's true identity. But that had happened years ago, just days after they had first found this bush. They hadn't known about the cat then, so the deaths had all been ruled as accidental. _But that's in the past, _he told himself. Now he had other things to worry about. _They haven't found out. I hope to God they never will. _He couldn't think about that now, though, as there was something else begging for dominance in his thoughts. It was the Brisby family. How could they possibly be told of his death, especially without being approached directly? Jonathan had kept this all from them: the rosebush, the rats, NIMH, and had even ordered, just days before his demise, that none of them were to approach her. She could only be told if she came here herself. Yet none of them had any idea just how this could occur. It was Ages who had come up with a complicated, if not somewhat cold-hearted plan. He would use one of his latest "failures".

The idea had been to create a syrup that cured diseases and some viral infections. It worked, but then somehow seemed to worsen them instead. He remembered that Timothy, one of the Brisby children, had developed a harsh cough in recent days, and that it hadn't yet left. The eldest, Martin, had gone to the thresher, where Ages had made his home, without his mother's knowing. He had then told the old mouse of his brother's infliction. Ages had given him the syrup, saying that the cough would vanish in just a few days, then was not at all shocked when she came by, saying Timothy's condition had worsened. The cough had escalated into a bad case of pneumonia.

_Remember, old boy, _he told himself repeatedly. _It was for the greater good. _He'd given her powder, told her how to administer it, then had hurried off to the rosebush, telling Nicodemus that she would most likely soon be coming to their domain.

"We can't let her know what really happened," he whispered urgently. The old rat nodded, deciding to spin a lie he knew that she'd believe: that her husband had been eaten by the farmer's cat, Dragon. It was the best they could do, as she'd come just a day after it had been written. Exactly three months after Jon's death. It was the same story they'd spread to the colony, until everyone believed it had been a horrid accident, even those who had witnessed it. When she arrived, only four people knew the truth: Justin, Mr. Ages, Cadrian, and Nicodemus. But nothing could have prepared them for what happened later that night.


	2. Memories

**Book One: Valley and Redemption**

Memories

_Flashback_

He gazed down at the ground below, panting heavily. He still couldn't believe all that had ensued, even with the wound that seeped blood into his fur. Their leader, his leader, was dead, murdered by the person he had least expected; Jenner, his lover. He had always hated the Plan, but for some reason they knew that this degree of brutality was unnatural for him. Something must have changed, and the young guard figured he knew exactly what it had been. Jenner had been mentally ill.

He couldn't remember exactly what Ages had called it, but knew that it had something to do with psychosis, and that the disease made its victims unstable and dangerous; and it had apparently manifested itself soon after their escape from NIMH. It just hadn't revealed itself in full until now; and now three, possibly four people, were dead. He slowly began to make his way toward where one of them lay.

He hadn't known her for long, but felt that she was responsible for all of this; and yet, no matter how much he wanted to be, Justin found that he couldn't be angry with her. After all, she had just been trying to protect her family. The Stone glittered beautifully around her neck, and he reached down to grasp the sleeping surface. She lashed out a hand, grasping his wrist in weak, terrified fingers. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She writhed in pain, her body twisting and turning to the point where he thought her spine would snap. He clasped her hand, stroking it gently.

"It's alright, Mrs. Brisby," he whispered soothingly. He still felt that small ember of rage, but it soon snuffed itself out. He shouldn't be angry with her; she had never wanted this to happen either. "It's alright, Mrs. Brisby," he repeated softly, still gripping her hand. "You're safe now."

Her shaking gradually stopped, and her eyes slowly came open. Her blue gaze was glazed with exhaustion and pain. "J-Justin," she moaned quietly. Her eyes widened, but barely cleared. "Is that you?"

He smiled, though he didn't know why. "Yes, Mrs. Brisby," he whispered. "It's me."

A fresh sob slipped from her throat, and she quickly embraced him. He felt he had no choice but to return the favor. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm so sorry, Justin! I swear, I didn't mean for any of this to happen! I-" he placed a finger on her lips, silencing her.

"It wasn't your fault," he whispered. He found himself believing the words. "Jenner was mentally unstable. He had no idea what he was doing."

She pulled his hand away. "But still, I…"

"Ah, there you two are." Mr. Ages strode up behind them, tapping Justin's shoulder. There was a roll of cloth in his grasp. Justin had completely forgotten about the wound in his arm, and it was still bleeding. A small shape emerged from the block, heading in their direction. It was the shrew, searching for Mrs. Brisby.

"Oh my, Brisby," she called. In a moment she had scuttled up to the group, eyes blazing when she saw who held the young mouse. "You ruffians," she sneered, and attempted to pull Brisby away. Unconsciously, Justin tightened his grip on her. Ages watched in amusement as the shrew shrank away from the look in his eyes. He had never really liked the tiny, loud-mouthed creature. After a few minutes, she slumped back toward the house in defeat. Mrs. Brisby laughed tiredly.

"I should be getting back soon," she said, not meeting either set of eyes. "Or else we're all going to be in trouble." She reached up, pulling the gold chain from her neck, slipping it into a pouch at Justin's belt. She stood, grasping his arm to steady herself, then kissed his cheek. "Thank you for saving me," she whispered, and in a few minutes was gone. The two males stared after her, the taller with a hand on his cheek. His face held a small degree of color. Ages chuckled to himself, seeing the bewildered look on the youth's face. He wrapped the gauze tightly over the wound, tying it with a small knot near the bottom.

_End flashback_

That was several months ago, and now he found himself staring out at the vast horizon of Thorn Valley. The wound from Jenner, as well as the memories of the farm, were now nothing but scars. Though the Stone gleamed proudly around his neck, he felt that he had somehow disgraced himself, feeling the way he did about everything that went on around him. He felt especially ashamed at how he had let Jenner treat him. It hadn't really been love he had felt, it couldn't have been, but what else could it have been controlling him?

_Fear,_ he thought. True, Justin wasn't lacking for courage, but his soul had been changed by a different, much darker one. _It was fear that caused me to act in that way._ That was the reason, it had to be. _But what if it wasn't?_ He turned from his view, cape flowing behind him as he strode down the corridor. The rats had appointed him leader soon after they'd arrived in the valley, and he'd accepted begrudgingly. He didn't regret it, at least not too much, but he still wished that Nicodemus was alive to have the position. The reason was that he didn't feel ready. He felt as though he were too young to hold such a title, even if he had been specially trained for it. The elder had encouraged him from day one, saying that he was born to do great things, just like Jonathan.

_Jonathan…_his thoughts drifted back to when the mouse was alive, before the cat had devoured him. Life had been so much simpler back then; he'd only had to care for himself, listening while others had made all the decisions. He remembered how Jenner had acted then, before that illness, psychosis, had set in, before he had lost his mind; but he had acted the same way with Jonathan, even after the mouse had announced his engagement. And especially after his marriage. That was when there had begun to be visible changes in his behavior, when he had begun verbally disputing the plan to move.

But now they were here, despite the agreement to stay. That was twice now that NIMH had forced them from their home, and he figured that it wouldn't be last. But there was no point in dwelling on what had passed, but he couldn't help it.

_How long before they cease to pursue us? _That question, like all the others, remained unanswered as he strode through the entrance. He gave a slight nod to the guard on duty, a youth named Cameron. It was bright, he shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun reflecting off the lake, but he took a path hardly used, heading into the recesses of the forest. No one followed him.

He had no idea where he was going, only that he needed to get away for a while. At best he wouldn't return before night, or maybe he wouldn't go back at all. He had always been social, but now he found himself craving solitude, sometimes for days on end. He felt as though he had left something undone, something unsaid, when he left the farm, but he couldn't tell just what it had been. He also kept thinking about his last day on the farm.

The scar on his arm was a harsh reminder, but also were the memories he had of Jon's widow, meeting her in the halls outside the main colony, shielding her from the verbal attacks in the council chamber, and last of all the soft kiss she had given him just before she returned to her kids. His fingers strayed to the spot, feeling only the fur that covered his body. He didn't know how he felt towards her, or anyone really. That same hand strayed to the Stone, tilting it so that the jewel caught the light. It stunned him how much power it contained. He turned it, reading the words carved upon the gold of the opposite side; _'You can unlock any door if you only have the key.'_ A phrase that still befuddled him. He tried not to think about it as he wandered farther along the sun-dappled path.

He hadn't realized just how far he had gone until he came to the edge of a cliff, over-looking the white waters of Thorn River. He shivered, sensing what it must be like to fall from such a height, feeling your bones shatter as you were tossed about like a cork in the rapids, plunging to your death from Briar Falls, which fed directly into the lake. He backed away, knowing how fragile such embankments were. He kept moving, watching for trouble from the corner of his eye. Ever since Jenner's apparent madness, he had made a habit of carrying a concealed blade with him wherever he went. It wasn't much, just a small knife with a very sharp tip.

He gripped the handle now, sensing a presence besides his own. He gazed in the under-brush, seeing nothing to cause worry, but still feeling that knot of unease in the pit of his stomach. He shook it off, continuing on his way, though a bit quicker than before. In a little while he found himself walking at dusk. He had spent the entire day out in the woods. He turned, only to find that he no longer recognized his surroundings, and that the rustle in the bushes had only grown louder. He scanned the undergrowth, seeing nothing but shivering leaves, yet knowing that there was someone…something getting nearer to him. A final sound and he felt the presence behind him. He turned, hand clasped on the blade…


	3. The Girl

The Girl

"Oh, please, sir," she begged. Tears poured down her face, her knees collapsed beneath her. "I beg of you, don't kill me, I've only been trying to…" she lifted her head, gasping when she saw him. Justin could see a hint of recognition in her eyes, but it was blurred by confusion and fear. He slid the knife back in its sheath, kneeling beside her.

"Are you alright, Miss?" he asked quietly. Weakly, she shook her head.

"I've wandered these woods for weeks," she spoke, panting. Every word seemed to drain her. "I have no idea where I am or even how I ended up here…I just…" she seemed to collapse, he barely caught her. Her eyes were mere slits beneath her lashes as she whispered, "Please, help me…"

Justin gazed down at her, feeling the slim bones beneath her fur, which was filthy and brittle. Her hair hung in sweaty tangles down her back, and her patched robe was barely existent. Her breathing was faint and uneven, as though she were barely alive. How could this have happened, when she was surrounded by fresh food and shelter? Still, Justin knew that he needed to help her, and maybe, just maybe, she could help him find the answers he'd searched for so long.

"Come on," he whispered. He lifted her, an arm around her shoulders. "I'll take you home." She nodded, though didn't seem to hear. He smiled, feeling as though he'd seen her somewhere before. _But who is she?_

Ashton shook his head, eyes wide as he glanced across her. She was more than half-starved to death, her fur so filthy that it was impossible to tell what species she was. "I don't know what to make of it," he said at last. He'd just noticed that she'd been travelling with multiple fractures, but thankfully they were nothing too serious. "Thank God you found her when you did," he said, ushering them to a bed. Gently, he laid her out upon the thin white sheets. "Most folks would have perished under these conditions, but she…" there were no words to explain it.

"Will she live?" Justin asked. He didn't know why he was so worried. After all, he didn't even know her name.

"She's going to be bedridden for some time," the doctor replied. He had already gotten to work on her wounds. "But she should make a full recovery." He noticed a small chain around her neck, pulling it from the collar of her tattered dress. It was a small disc inscribed with an 'N'. "What in the world could that mean?" Justin could only shrug in response. For some reason his gaze refused to leave her.

She had been bathed shortly after they'd arrived, and now he could see the pale hue of her fur. Her hair was pure white, cascading down her back in a silken waterfall; her eyes, however, were the most mysterious. They seemed a wash of blue, brown, and grey, changing shades whenever she tilted her head. They were full of a sadness that pierced his soul, regretful and longing, as though trying to undo a vile wrong, yet fearing that she was unable to do so.

"There," Ashton tied the last strip, seeing that the bandages covered nearly her entire body, and that the fur of her face was streaked with tears. He reached down, but she turned away. "What the-?"

She was suddenly moaning, as though still in pain, her claws biting into the cloth of her bed. Tenderly, Justin laid a hand on her shoulder, gripping it firmly until she calmed. In a moment she opened her eyes.

"Where am I?" she whispered, and gazed at Ashton. "Who are you?"

"Don't worry," Justin said soothingly. "We're here to help you. You're going to be okay."

She gasped, taking his hand. "Justin…" she whispered. "Is that you?"

"You know him?" voiced Ashton. She shook her head.

"I…don't know…but for some reason I know who you are."

"Who's after you?" Justin asked. "What have they done to you?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I can't remember anything but your name."

The two males just looked at each other. She sounded sincere, but they felt there was more than she led on. What had happened to make her succumb to this? When they looked back, however, she was sound asleep.

"What are we going to do?" squeaked Ashton. They spoke quietly in a corner of the chamber, keeping a close eye on their visitor.

"We can't send her back out there," said Justin. "Not in her present state."

"Yes, but what can we do?" the doctor was persistent.

Justin sighed, shaking his head. "All we can do now is let her rest," he said. "Maybe her memories will be restored in time." But he wasn't sure if he wanted her reliving the past.

He couldn't sleep. Justin found it impossible to calm his mind enough for slumber to enter. This recent turn of events wasn't what had shocked him, but it was the fact that, although she had no memory, she knew his name. He had never seen her before, yet there was something that said that he knew her. _That's ridiculous,_ he told himself. He turned for the umpteenth time that night, facing the window.

That mystery girl had reawakened so much within him, and he fought for it all to remain hidden. He didn't want to remember, didn't want to have those horrific memories cascading through his brain any longer. He would do anything to get rid of them, and had begun to think of taking extreme measures. _She's just a girl,_ he thought. _How in the world could she have this effect on me?_ He groaned, pushing his hair back from his face. In the past few months he had grown…well, indifferent would be the best word to describe it, at least on the surface. But inside he was still a maelstrom of emotion. He just didn't want to care any-more, but found that he really had no other choice.

_Where did she come from?_ That was the biggest concern, as he knew that letting strangers in, no matter how wounded, could lead to trouble, and he didn't feel like they were prepared for such things. After all, just look at what happened last time an outsider had come.

_But that wasn't her fault!_ The young leader was at war within himself. _She didn't ask for this any-more than we did._ He tried to believe it, knowing that she hadn't hoped for Jon's death, or for Timothy to be ill. You can't control fate. That he also knew well, especially when it always seemed to be working against you. However, it was possible to change its course of action, at least a little. You just had to make the right choices. He just hoped he would be able to. A moment later he rose from his bed, pacing the room as a small sound echoed through the corridors.

He found her face down in her sheets, arms wrapped tightly around the pillow as her sobs seeped into it. He suddenly had the urge to…he shook his head, trying to bury what she stirred in his heart. He wasn't going to care any-more, because the loss was too painful. He knelt down by the bed, a hand on her back. She looked up a moment later, eyes red from crying.

"What's troubling you?" he asked quietly. She shook her head.

"I…don't know," she whispered. She wiped her eyes and sat up. He was momentarily stunned. Her figure was fuller than a few days before, but she was still perfectly slender. He looked closer. There was something so familiar about the hue of her fur, as though he had seen the pattern before. He found himself absorbed in her eyes, feeling as though he were drowning in their ocean-like depths. "Is something the matter?" he suddenly felt her warm breath on his face. He was shocked to realize how intently he'd been staring at her. Not wanting her to get the wrong idea, he said the first thing that popped into his mind.

"Nothing," he said, looking away. "I just find your beauty enchanting." It had the desired effect. Her face took on a slight ruby tint.

"No one's ever called me beautiful before," she said, gazing at her clasped hands. He lifted her chin, smiling tenderly.

"Now I find that hard to believe," he said quietly. He lifted her chin so their eyes met. "You've been through quite a bit haven't you?"

"Yes, but I can't remember any of it…" her voice was a whisper, quiet and scared.

"I understand," he said. "Believe me."

"How can you?" she asked.

He smiled, but it quickly faded. "I think it's time you knew how we came to be here…" hours passed as he told her about NIMH, how they had taken him from his family as a child, changing him and twenty-one others into abnormalities, forcing them to live in hiding since the day they escaped. "They underestimated us," he finished. "They didn't think it would work as well as it did. We came here hoping to escape from them, but that's for another time."

"NIMH," she said the word slowly, eyes widening slightly. "I feel like I've heard that name before…"

He smiled again. "If you've been around here for some time, then you probably have. This is the first place where we haven't had to hide from the humans."

It was silent a moment as she took in the information. In a moment she set her feet on the floor. "Can you help me stand please?" she asked. "I've been stuck here for weeks; it's driving me crazy."

She lifted herself, taking his hand. She was a bit unsteady at first, but was soon able to stand by herself. However she didn't drop his hand right away. She finally realized how short she was compared to him; she barely reached his chest. She looked down at her feet, seeing her tail wrapped around her ankle, getting the feeling that she'd held his hand before, and wondered what it would be like to…

"Is something wrong?" he asked. She shook her head, feeling a tear drop from her eye.

"Nothing," she whispered. "I just…" she gasped, feeling his hand on her waist. She lifted her gaze, seeing that her fingers were clasped on the back of his neck. If she stood on her toes her lips would just touch his. "I guess I…" she still couldn't speak. It didn't matter, as she enjoyed the silence. They spent some time just looking at each other, unaware of the shadow that lurked outside.


	4. Cause for Worry

Cause for worry

She was enjoying her first time outside. Two months had passed since her arrival, and Ashton had finally deemed her well enough to leave the infirmary. She stayed close by Justin's side, trying to ignore the strange looks people were giving her. Before being released she had taken a hot shower, finally able to remove the rest of the dirt and dry blood. Her old robe had been replaced with a long dress of a soft red cloth. She had then brushed her hair until it shone. She enjoyed the look of surprise on their faces when she walked out, as they had finally experienced the full force of her beauty. The only problem was that her mind was still in turmoil.

The nightmares still plagued her, but her screams were unheard through the thick walls of her room. Every morning she awoke on the floor, the sheets twisted in knots around her legs. But her pain was forgotten the moment she gazed into his eyes. On the few nights she slept peacefully, she imagined what a life with him would be like, and if she would ever be someone's. Her memories were still blurred beyond recognition, yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she had known him somewhere before, or that she had once been something other than the form she held now. She tried speaking about it, numerous times, but no one would listen. The males almost always tried to make love to her, and the females all just seemed to ignore her, as though they were jealous of something. But what? There were many beauties in the community, but they each just seemed to want to exploit themselves, as if trying to prove their attractiveness. No one ever took them seriously either. She wasn't like that, so why wouldn't they listen to her? She wanted to ask him, but she could never get him alone.

_Have I done something to make them resent me?_ She couldn't have. She'd spent the last two months in a bed for crying out loud! But maybe she'd done something she wasn't aware of, something to make them resent her without really knowing her. She looked up at the sun, seeing soft clouds slip past in the sky. She smiled, feeling content, but it changed to confusion when she saw a black dot coming from the mountains. It quickly grew bigger, becoming a large black bird. She normally screamed when such things approached her, but she could tell from the way that it flew that it meant her no harm. In a few minutes it landed, well, more like crashed, in front of her. It was a crow. She laughed quietly, watching as it dislodged itself from the string it was tangled in. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Uh, uh, yeah. I'm looking for a rat named Justin. You seen him?" it babbled.

"Yes, did you need him?"

It handed her a small letter, covered with the scent of a mouse. "I was told to give this to him, but I'm afraid that I have to get going…" in a moment it had flown away in a flurry of feathers. She shrugged, gazing down at the note in her hand. It had Justin's name written on the outside in a careful hand. There was no seal holding it shut. Gazing around, she slowly opened it. The letter inside was written in the same hand.

'_Justin,'_ it started. The writing was shaky, as though the author were frightened. _'Please, we need your help. Our mother went out a few months ago, and there's been no sign of her since. We know something's happened to her. We've searched the whole farm, including the forest, and we still haven't found her. It's not like her to just vanish like this. We need you to help us find her. Martin.'_

Reading the words had brought a figment of memory back to her. She remembered a farm, living near a rock. She turned, knowing it was urgent, knocking someone over in her rush to reach the halls. She landed on top of him, her hair falling in her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. She pushed away from him, cheeks flaming. She didn't look up until his hand touched her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked. She gazed up, and her blush deepened. She quickly stood, smoothing her dress.

"Justin, I have something for you," she handed him the note, which was slightly crumbled from her fall. "A bird gave it to me, then flew off before I could ask it its name."

"A bird?" he seemed bewildered. "It wasn't a crow, was it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I didn't get a good look at it."

Justin glanced down at the card in his hand. It wasn't the handwriting he was used to seeing. "It's from Martin," he said, seeing the name at the bottom. He scanned the rest, eyes widening in what seemed horror. "Elizabeth's gone," he whispered.

"Who?" she asked. The name did sound familiar, but she couldn't place where she had heard it.

"She's a mouse I met; back on the farm…" he paused. "I've missed her since the day I left."

The look in his eyes added something to his words. She voiced it before she could think. "You loved her, didn't you?"

He nodded slowly, finally realizing it. "Yes, and I don't mind telling you that I still have feelings for her."

"Did you ever tell her?"

"I almost did, but I never found the right time…" he trailed off, fighting the tears that welled in his eyes. It was a moment before he spoke again. "You remind me a lot of her," he said quietly. He didn't elaborate.

"I do?" she asked, though her blush returned. He nodded. A moment of quiet passed until he recalled the note in his hand.

"I'm going to find her," he said quietly. He turned away before she could see the tears fall from his eyes. She soon followed, both unknowing of just how close by the Brisby mouse was.

Martin stood at the door of their summer home, eyes locked on the distant Black Mountains. It had been close to a year that their mother had been gone, but there was still no sign of her. The four of them had been able to survive on their own, but it did nothing to ease their longing. He was waiting to see if Justin would answer his note, or if the rats were even still alive. He lowered his eyes as Teresa approached. In her hand was a long roll of bandages. Their brother Timothy had recently fallen, breaking his arm; the reason why Martin had been the one to write to Thorn Valley. "How's he doing?" he asked without turning.

"Better," she replied. She set the roll in a small chest under the stairs. "But he's still in pain."

"At least he had the sense to ask Ages before all this happened."

Teresa nodded, knowing what her brother meant. About two weeks after the move, Timothy had snuck out of the house, going to Ages and asking the old mouse to teach him everything he knew. He'd quickly agreed. Soon afterward he'd left for the valley. "Do you think she'll be back?"

Martin shook his head. "I have no idea, sis," he said. He finally turned to look at her. His eyes were dull and worried. "I just hope we can find her."

She nodded, turning away as she went to check on their brother. Like Martin, she found Timothy gazing blankly outside, a forgotten book in his lap, Cynthia sleeping beside him. He was obviously thinking about her. He turned at the sound of her steps, violet shadows surrounding his bright blue eyes. He hadn't been sleeping well lately, and she guessed it was more than just his arm. "How you feeling?"

"No different," he murmured. He tried moving. "Still hurts."

"I know how you feel," she said. "I cracked my ankle a few weeks before dad passed away. He hated it just as much as I did."

He nodded, shutting his book and tossing it on his bed. "Will we ever see the rats again?" he asked, changing the subject. She shook her head.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Especially now that…"

"We're going to Thorn Valley," Martin said suddenly, waking Cynthia.

"We are?" she asked excitedly. Martin held up the note in his hand.

"I just got this from Justin," he explained. "He said that he'll help us find mother."

"He will?" she didn't think he'd say no, but one could never tell.

Martin nodded. "I'm gonna go get Jeremy," he said, turning away. "You guys gather up what we'll need." A moment later he was gone. The others just looked at each other, knowing this wasn't false hope.

He just looked at her, not believing her story. She had just finished explaining how most of the other rats treated her, despite the fact that she had done nothing to them. Her face heated as she told of the other males, lowered when she mentioned the females' apparent jealousy. It was silent when she finished, as he considered what the problem might have been.

"They don't react well to strangers," he said at last. No need to describe how they had treated Elizabeth when she had come. "But that still doesn't explain how they're acting. Can you recall anything you might have done?"

"I've spent the last two months in a bed for Pete's sake!" she exclaimed. "How could I have done anything?"

He laughed, then became serious. "I don't know what to tell you," he said at last. "Perhaps they just need to get used to your presence here, since…" he trailed off.

"Could someone have seen us?" she said suddenly. He looked confused. "You know, when I was…um…" her blush deepened as she looked away.

"I doubt it," he said sheepishly. "The curtain was drawn, so even if someone else had been present, they wouldn't have been able to see us."

"That's what I figured," she spoke quietly. "I just wanted to be sure."

He was about to speak again when there was a quiet knock from the hall. Waiting outside was an eager young rat, dressed in a farmer's uniform.

"Justin," he said softly. He apparently didn't see the girl behind his leader. "There's a crow in the field. He's got the Brisby children with him. They're all asking for you."

"Thank you, Conrad," the youth nodded, dashing back outside. Justin turned back to his apartment, smiling at her. "You should come too," he said. "Perhaps it'll restore your memory."

She nodded, following close behind as they strolled through the corridors. Her memory had been returning in tiny fragments since her arrival, but much was still missing. She recalled being exhausted one night, waking up refreshed a few hours later, being caught just a short time after that. She remembered a horrid pain, one that had lasted for months before fading, then of course there was the farm and a large rock. But beyond that there was nothing but bare space. She still couldn't even recall her own name; only that it must have started with an 'N', if her necklace was any indication.

_Who am I?_ She wondered, knowing that there wouldn't be a reply. She shook her head, following close behind Justin.

The children had changed since the first time he'd seen them. Teresa looked just like her mother, aside from the large bow she still wore in her hair. Her blue eyes sparkled when she saw the handsome rat approaching. Cynthia blushed, giggling behind her beige-furred hand. Her wide brown eyes were the same shade as her father's. She was still a head shorter than her sister, the green bow still wrapped tightly around her waist, which seemed to have slimmed a bit. He smiled, causing the pink in their cheeks to darken. The boys just rolled their eyes, sighing in unison.

Martin looked just like Jonathan, if a bit bulkier than his unfortunate father, while Timothy was still slim as a willow, with a white cast wrapped around his left wrist. He was an equal mix of both his parents, in more ways than one. By the time Justin took his eyes away, Jeremy was a mere speck in the darkening sky.

"Welcome to Thorn Valley," he said at last. "Though I take it this is not a social visit."

"I'd be lying if I said it was," said Martin, coming to him. He then repeated what he'd written previously. "Are you sure she's not here?"

Justin shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not," he said. She suddenly had the urge to say _But I'm right here!_ But thought it wise to hold her tongue. She turned away, seeing a figment of shadow vanish into the undergrowth. She barely noticed when the others turned to go inside, and quickly followed. _Where have I seen them before? _She wondered, knowing it wouldn't have an answer.


	5. Unanswered Questions

Unanswered Questions

"Did anything unusual happen before your mother went missing?" he asked. The children looked at each other.

"Not a thing," said Martin. "She said she was going out to look for food, then she vanished."

"Were you still on the farm?"

"It was little less than a week after you moved our house," said Timothy. "She had just finished explaining everything to us."

"Hmm, was she acting…strange in any way?"

"No, at least, not that we could tell. How do you mean?"

"Well, anything that's different from how she usually acts; any adverse behavior, forgetfulness, things of that degree."

"Well, now that you mention it, yes, she was acting a little strange," said Teresa. Justin boded her to continue. "She looked as though she'd lost something, but wasn't able to find it,"

"More than that," said Timothy. "She looked as though she were lost, as if she had no idea where she was."

Justin gazed at them, this was just getting more difficult. "She hasn't come here," he said at last, then had an idea. "Was NIMH still at the farm?"

The children looked at each other, until Cynthia nodded her head. "They came back every day," she explained. "They searched the entire farm, not just the rosebush. Do you really think they could have taken her?"

"It's possible," Justin told her. "But I think we should take that as a last resort, if we can't find any other cause for her disappearance."

They nodded, hoping that wouldn't be the case.

Justin was in his room when a loud knock was heard. It was one of those days where he craved solitude, but was trapped inside by a blinding rain. He looked up, giving a breath of annoyance. He had specifically said that no one was to bother him. However, his attitude changed when he heard the voice on the other side.

"Justin!" it was Cynthia, and she sounded scared. He opened the door to reveal a small girl with bloody hands. "We need your help!" she grabbed his hand, pulling him into the hall. In a few minutes they came upon someone stretched out on the floor, with three mice surrounding her.

"What happened here?" he asked, fighting to stay calm.

Timothy looked up, shaking as he spoke. "W-We don't know, s-she was like this w-when we f-found her."

He was silent until lightning split the sky, highlighting the red pool that was spreading beneath her. A high scream brought Ashton from the infirmary. "Oh my Lord; what happened out here?"

"We don't know," Cynthia gripped Justin's cape, shaking in fear. "We found her this way."

A few minutes later they were in the infirmary, the mystery girl's body once again shrouded in gauze. There was a long, narrow wound from her neck to her stomach, which had taken a good ten minutes to stitch shut. Justin could only gaze down in horror, hardly able to believe this was real. How in the world had this happened, and why? He glanced up, seeing that Ashton and the children were gone. He had most likely taken them outside, where he could comfort them without their seeing her wounds. He fought to remain calm, knowing that he was supposed to appear in control of any situation, but he couldn't help but worry for her. What had she done to deserve such a fate?

_I need to protect her,_ he thought. She still stirred the dying fire in his heart, turning it once more into a passionate blaze. He still fought to deny it, but knew that there was no longer any point in trying. Finally giving in, he leaned forward, and kissed her gently. Her scent at that moment caressed him like a loving fog, sweetly familiar as though he'd smelled it before. He gazed at her face, so lovely even in sleep, wondering what her life must have been like before all of this, how she had gotten to where she was now. _This torment won't last for much longer,_ he silently vowed, then turned and left.

She sighed in her sleep, feeling a soft pressure over her mouth. She wanted to answer it, but found it impossible to move. Her eyes wanted to open, to gaze at who had saved her, but her head pounded when the light hit her vision. The warmth sent her heart racing, the scent so similar to one she'd known…but she still couldn't remember. Tears flowed down her cheeks; not from the pain, but from the fact that she may never know what all this was about. No matter how hard she tried.

_I can't even recall my own name,_ she told herself. _How could I expect to recall anything else?_ She shook her head, though the motion caused pain. She wondered who it had been, why their presence made her feel safe, why she felt herself falling in love. _I wish I could tell him._ More of her memory seemed to have returned, showing her a red stone, a stormy night, a blinding fury pressing down on her. She shivered, her mind's eye gazing into a pair of green orbs, seeing the black madness fester behind them. Her heart leapt to her throat when she felt a crushing pain that made it hard to breathe. She tried to fight them, feeling her arms being pulled above her head, minute pinpricks coating her skin.

_What's happening to me?_ She wanted to speak, but could do little more than cry as the grip tightened, though a gentle hand came to wipe her tears. A cloth was soon placed over her mouth and nose, sending her back into the land of dreams…


	6. Night of Tears

Night of Tears

Ashton fought to wake up, feeling his throat tighten up. His hands clawed at what held him, he was shocked to feel nothing but empty space. His eyes flew open, claws falling to his throat. He'd forgotten to remove the bandage. He dragged a nail across the scar on his neck, the only thing his father had ever left him. His mother had died giving birth to him, and his father had abused him to the point where another family had to take him. He'd only been a few months old.

_It was my fault Ebony died,_ he thought. _I took her life as I fought to start mine._ He shook his head, recalling the murmurs that had often surrounded him as a child, saying how he should have died at birth. _"He's Jenner's son,"_ he recalled them saying. _"It's only natural for him to cheat death."_

"I'm not my father!" he cried. The young doctor shot up, wiping the sweat from his brow. Justin wasn't the only one dealing with an unwanted past. He, too, wanted to forget what had happened before, no matter what reminders he had of those years. He had become a doctor specifically to prove to them that being a Genre didn't mean he was abnormal. After all, it was just a name, not an extra limb. So far it seemed to have worked, except for the few whom Jenner had affected personally. He knew that they would never forget, but why didn't they just forgive and move on? _They want someone to punish,_ he thought. _And I'm the closest they have. _He remembered his older brother, how Cadrian had been a mirror image of Jenner, but that he was still being blamed for the Genres.

_Maybe we all should have died on the farm._ Nicodemus hadn't been the only one to perish from his father's plans. Sure, there had been Sullivan and Jonathan too, to some extent, but there had been more than one body pulled from the wreckage under the block. Cadrian had also been crushed, though no one knew why he was there. _I do, though._ Like Sullivan, Cadrian had seen the wrong of Jenner's ways, only too late to make a difference. He had been trying to pull their leader away before the block fell, only to perish himself. Not that it would have done much.

It was impossible to believe how many laws those two had shattered, how often they had gotten away with their misdeeds. Infidelity, theft, and murder. They had taken away the woman he loved, and had nearly driven him to suicide.

_Flashback_

Ashton opened his door, going pale when he saw his carpet. Lying across it was Vivian, her beautiful face contracted in fear. Her bright green eyes were vacant, body stiff. He knew instantly that she was dead. The cause was a gaping wound in her throat, bright red blood spilling to the cold soil beneath her. But it wasn't just that which brought tears to his eyes. It was the dark rat at her feet, cleaning his blade with the hem of her gown. Soulless black eyes, deep brown fur, teeth flashing red when he grinned. "Hello, brother."

Ashton was stunned, hardly able to stand while his brother bowed over his wife, taking the ring from her hand, licking the fluid that flooded her lips. He got to his feet, crushing her face with his heel. Something inside him snapped. "I'm going to kill you, Cadrian!" he shouted.

He leapt on his brother, wanting to tear his sibling apart, to no avail. Cadrian was nearly twice his size, having inherited their father's build and strength, easily able to hold him off. A swift blow to the gut, and he left his brother gasping on the floor, crumbled in a sobbing heap. He crawled beside her, stroking her hair while his brother laughed coldly above him. "You killed someone I loved," he began. "I just returned the favor."

Anger blazed in his eyes, but he could do nothing as the door slammed in his face. Tears flooded his eyes as he vowed revenge on his family, unknowing of the events that were set to occur.

_End flashback_

"Oh, Vivian," he whispered. He gazed at her portrait, done just days after their marriage, a mere two weeks before her death. Her beauty had just been one of the reasons he'd loved her, as well as her pure heart and quiet, caring soul. He would never know that Cadrian had stolen two lives that day, as Vivian had been pregnant with a daughter. He pulled the rings from their place in his bedside table. They hung on a chain that he hid under his shirt during the day, close to his heart. "I'm sorry," he whispered, sobbing. "I'm so sorry." He ended up crying himself to sleep, his last thought being that it was again his fault someone had died. But he wasn't the only one to shed tears that night.

The sounds echoed throughout the infirmary, coming from a single form. The rat was hunched over, letting the tears run through his hands. The stress of his life had finally become too much for him to handle. Not only had Elizabeth gone without a trace, but he found himself betraying her memory as he fell in love with the girl before him. And now it seemed she was on the brink of death.

"Who did this to you?" he whispered, though knew she couldn't hear. He reached up and clasped her hand, gazing helplessly at her. Why was he feeling like this? He remembered when almost nothing bothered him, when he had no worries save what he would do the next day. He longed for the years he'd spent as a guard, longing for the simple pleasures he'd been able to enjoy; flirting with the girls, goofing around with his friends, being able to just sit back and watch as others made the decisions. But he no longer had the time or freedom to do so.

The colony was doing better than it ever had, their lives more secure since the moment they'd entered the valley, though the others said that it was more than just breathing free air. They said that it was the change in their leadership. Nicodemus had withdrawn to the point that some, in fact most of the rats had forgotten he even existed. Their lives had been dictated solely by the council, which had been disbanded soon after the move, by unanimous decision. Justin knew it was for the best, just in case Jenner still had some straggling followers. But their new lives did little to ease his conscience. And it was made worse by this newcomer.

No one else had been near when she was found, no weapons, and he knew that the Brisby children had nothing to do with it; but that was something that he found rather odd. Their mother vanishes, then this girl shows up in the valley, claiming to have no memory of her former life, yet knowing his name. _What if-no, that's ridiculous. She's not even a mouse._ Ashton had recently developed a method for giving blood tests, and he supposed this was the only good thing to come from the attack. The girl had come from NIMH.

_That's what really doesn't make sense,_ he thought. After all, they'd all come from NIMH, and none of them had forgotten their past lives. But she'd suffered after her escape, that much he could tell, and apparently someone was after her. _But who?_ His tears were forgotten as his mind wandered to what he knew of her.

She had been lost, nearly starved to death when he'd found her, despite the fact that food was abundant. Her body had been covered in wounds, none of which had appeared to be of natural causes. She'd had multiple fractures, none of which had been treated before he'd brought her to the colony, and she had just recovered when she was attacked and wounded again. Then there was the fact that she seemed so familiar to him.

Her beauty could only be compared to one other he'd known, her fur pattern close to the same. Her blue eyes sparkled the same way Elizabeth's had, her scent just as intoxicating. Then there was this newest development involving the Brisby children. Why had their mother disappeared, and how? He was still racking his brain when he heard a light moaning next to him. He looked up; she was talking in her sleep.

"Jon, please," she murmured. "We must help Timothy, he'll die if we don't…" tears slipped from her closed eyes. He reached up to wipe them away. She smiled, turning toward him. "Oh, Jon," she whispered. "You always know just how to comfort me…" her eyes opened, filling with shock when she saw who it was. "You're not Jonathan," she told him.

"You knew Jonathan?" he asked, astonished.

"Yes, he was my husband," she said. She tried sitting up, only to fall back in pain. Justin caught her before she fell back. She looked up at him, gripping his shirt. "Justin, I finally remember!"

His eyes widened, his voice barely a whisper as he asked, "Elizabeth, is that really you?"

She nodded, smiling as she hugged him. In a moment she pulled away. "My name is Natasha Elizabeth Brisby," she stated. "I was captured by NIMH last year while I searched for food. I don't know how long I was there before I started changing," she motioned toward herself. "The first thing I noticed was that I was able to read, more easily than I could before, and that I was beginning to understand what the scientists were talking about." She shivered.

"Justin, they injected me with something they called F18, a combination of the two formulas they had used in previous experiments; X41 and R16. I think the R16 is what physically changed me. I didn't know how much until I saw myself in a puddle after I escaped." She looked down, recalling that she was no longer the mouse she had been at birth. "I'm a rat now," she said finally. "I'm guessing that's what the "R" in R16 stood for."

He was silent a moment, then, "How did you escape?"

She shrugged. "The same way that you did," she began. She took a sip from the cup of water left on the bedside table. "There were eleven other mice in my group when the experiment started, but I was the only one who survived the injections. I guess they were more potent than the humans anticipated." He smiled, seeing how she was no longer stumbling over her speech. "Anyway," she continued; she cleared her throat to hide her nervousness. "There was a rat in the cage next to mine, and he seemed to have taken a fancy to me. He asked if I wanted to escape with them, and I accepted, saying that I already knew a way out." She paused, but he said nothing.

"He seemed shocked, but I told him I would explain everything once we were out. I showed them where the vent was, it hadn't been changed since you escaped, and I was nearly blown away when the air kicked on. He held on to me to make sure I stayed with them. When we reached the grate, I was the only one small enough to get through. I undid the latch, and in a few minutes we were on the ground, cutting off those plastic collars." Again she stopped, a bit longer this time.

"I remembered the route from what you'd told me back in the rosebush, but seeing as it was late summer, I suggested we stay in the forest until we reached the farm, since I knew there would be plenty to eat. We stayed at the farm a few days, during which I told them how I'd known how to escape and where to go, but they made me stay away from the block, knowing that I was no longer the same species as my children.

"I soon began telling them about Thorn Valley, how we could be there within a week, but they declined, saying that they would create their own colony deep in the forest. Julian, the one who asked me to come, told me I was welcome to stay, since I had helped them so much. I said I would, but just for a little while. Well, right when I was about to leave, he came up to me, asking if we could speak somewhere privately. I said yes, not thinking about what might happen. He brought me to a beautiful spot near the river, where he took me in his arms and kissed me," she related the bit without emotion. "He then knelt and proposed, saying that he had never known anybody like me. I politely declined, telling him that there was someone else. He seemed okay at first, but then he choked me and tossed me into the river. The last thing I remember before blacking out was seeing him above me, tears running down his face." she stopped, lowering her head. "The rest you saw yourself."

Justin was stunned. He could do little more than stare at her as her story sunk in. When it finally did, he fully realized just what she had come to mean to him. He reached out, lifting her chin so their eyes met. Each pair held a glitter neither had seen there before. His voice was soft when he spoke. "You have no idea how happy I am to have found you." He leaned forward, kissing her passionately. She gladly returned it.


	7. Her Horrid Truth

Her Horrid Truth

The afternoon had waned by the time silence settled on the chamber. The children were open-mouthed, not knowing what to say. In a few minutes the oldest Brisby shook his head.

"So, you're our mother?" Martin gazed at Elizabeth, not believing the tale he'd been told. She nodded, facing the floor. In a few minutes Cynthia walked up to her.

"Are you like us now?" she asked quietly. Her mother smiled.

"Yes, sweetheart," she said. "I am."

Timothy just sat there quietly, still digesting the story. He remembered seeing the scientists on the farm earlier that day, but didn't think she would run into them. Now she was a different species, apparently with someone on her trail. "Could it be Julian?" he said without thinking. Something about that rat seemed familiar in some way.

"I never thought of that," said Elizabeth. "But he thinks I'm dead. He threw me in the river…"

"He probably knew you were alive the whole time," said Teresa, who until now had been silent. She gazed out the window at the setting sun. The sky was dyed liquid gold, with splashes of blue, pink and violet, the few puffy clouds turned red by the rays. "And for some reason he's waited until now to make his move."

"This is a long shot," said Timothy. "But maybe he…never mind."

"What is it?"

He shook his head. "Nothing, it's stupid."

"Come on, Timothy," begged Teresa. "Just tell us."

He hesitated, then again shook his head. "No," he began, but paused. What danger could really come of his telling them? "Alright I was thinking that maybe he knew what was going to happen after he dropped you in the river. Maybe he knew you'd lose your memory, and that you would wander into the valley, and even who you would meet."

Coming from anyone else, the statement would have sounded ludicrous, but coming from him, the idea made sense. Justin turned to Elizabeth, barely resisting the urge to put his arm around her. For some reason, he didn't want her children knowing how he felt, especially since he had been present on the day Jonathan died. "Can you remember anything else about NIMH?" he asked. "Was there any other research taking place while you were there?"

She thought a moment, then slowly nodded. "Now that you mention it, yes there was. I couldn't understand much of it, but I think they said they would take the experiments to the next stage." He motioned for her to continue. "You're lucky to have escaped when you did," she told him. "Because the prolonging of life and increased intelligence were only the first step; they said that they would achieve their objectives this time, that they were going to turn us into drones to track down escaped projects, then try it out on humans, to locate enemies during wars."

Justin knew there was more to NIMH than even the humans knew, but turning members of the same species against each other? Now that just seemed barbaric! "Are you sure about this?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'm repeating the scientists' own words, Justin, and I'm beginning to think that Julian was one of those drones, that he had been there longer than the rest of us."

"So, they'll be coming here," said Martin. It was a statement, not a question. He gazed out to the black horizon. "We just don't know when."

He held out a hand, stopping his men in their tracks. There was much grumbling and cries of impatience as their leader pulled out a spyglass, training it on the distant mountains of Thorn Valley. By the rate they were going, he estimated that they would reach their goal by the end of the week. He turned, sliding onyx eyes over his troops, trying to find one in particular. "Where's 243?" he barked. A single soldier, standing near the front, came up to his leader.

"Sir?" he said, saluting smartly. His leader motioned him forward, pointing into the distance.

"Infiltrate the valley, inform me of their defenses," he began. "Take a small team with you."

He watched in approval, the lad asked no questions. There was still more to NIMH than the rats had figured out. The groups that Justin, Ages and Jon had come from were actually failed experiments. The scientists just wanted them back to see if they could correct their mistakes. The only ones to have the desired effects had been numbers ten and eleven: Jenner and Sullivan.

"The rest of you," he rose from his crouch, glaring down at them all. "Set up camp for the night. We start for the valley at dawn!" he chuckled, seeing how rapidly they obeyed. They were frightened, that he knew, but he knew also that they had no choice but to listen. NIMH had made it specifically so that orders would be carried out, and that the subjects would have no way to resist. The human in charge, a man named Nigel Remington, had twisted plans lodged in his mind. Schultz had been "fired" after failing to find anything on the farm, his own intentions swept into the trash with his ashes. Except for one thing. It was a journal entry, written by Nigel's old boss soon after the original tests had begun. It had to do with a dream he'd had, described in great detail upon the wrinkled white paper, telling of what may happen if these creatures ever escaped. Nigel had been born demented, and it had just grown worse with age. He was now thirty-three, head of a national research facility with secret plans. He intended to destroy the planet, sending his creatures throughout the globe in worse-than-Plague proportions. Just one bite was enough.

Julian was one of those creatures.

He looked no different than any other rat, aside from his empty eyes. His fur was pure black, allowing him to blend in perfectly with the shadows, the shade melting seamlessly into his eyes. His lithe body was filled with dangerous strength and breath-taking speed. His gaze again drifted over his comrades, seeing them all except the one he truly wanted, a great beauty named Natasha Elizabeth. His twisted heart was dark as the rest of him, but the thought of her body pressed against his sent fire flowing through his veins, briefly filling his otherwise empty spirit.

_I'll make her regret saying no to me, _he thought, though not without a stab of pain. _I'll make her see the error of her ways, then transform her into my queen. _He truly did love her, but the injections had changed his mind as much as his body. He was no longer able to feel on the surface. He watched half-heartedly as the few females of the group tried to get his attention, wanting something even they knew they could never have. The heart of Julian Genre. But that didn't mean they wouldn't receive what they desired of him. "416!" a young woman came to him, following him eagerly to his tent.

243 finished outlining the plan to the others. Like his leader had said, he only picked a small team; three youths that were the first born outside of NIMH. All three were similar in appearance, having the same light tan fur, the same ghoulish gleam in their multi-colored eyes. The oldest, 322, was bigger than his brothers, though not by much. The middle, 332, was slim and wiry, one of the fastest among them. The youngest went by 324, and was considered one of the brightest. 243 himself was average among their kind, aside from a strange black glow that filled his eyes whenever enraged. The triplets were also his closest friends.

"We need to discover what defenses they carry," he told them. "A quick glimpse at their base should accomplish that easily." The others nodded, though 324 appeared nervous. "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, though couldn't sit still. 322 put a hand on his back, rubbing it comfortingly. They found it hard to remember that 324 was still just a child. He gazed up at his brother, who nodded approvingly.

"If something is bothering you, just tell us," he said kindly. 324 hesitated, but was finally able to speak.

"But what if she's regained her memory by now?" he asked. "She'll have told them all about us."

"She doesn't know our true intentions," said 243. "Julian made sure that she wouldn't."

It was silent a moment until 332 cleared his throat. "Just idle conversation," he began. "But why does Julian have a name, when the rest of us just go by numbers?"

They looked at each other, realizing that they had never really thought about it before; that was just how things were; in a moment 243 rose to his feet. "Well," he said. "He said we needed a head start, let's get moving."

Elizabeth awoke on the floor, the sheets twisted around her body. She had just suffered another nightmare, but this one appeared to have been more than a bad dream. She quickly kicked away the bedding, wrapping a robe tightly around her. She could hear her children from the next room; they were still sound asleep. They didn't actually have their own apartment, but none of them seemed to mind. She quietly stepped into the main room, seeing a slim line of light beneath a door. Justin was still awake.

The chamber was lit faintly by the moon outside, though she paid little heed to its light as she focused on his door. Her knock was barely a sound, but she knew he heard it. There was a faint click as he set something down, then muffled steps as he approached. "Elizabeth, is something wrong?" he said once the door opened. She could only nod, knocked speechless by his appearance. He was no longer the slim youth she remembered.

He wore a plain white shirt that fell to his knees, the short sleeves showing off his thickly-muscled arms. She placed her hands on his wide chest, feeling his heart beat firmly underneath, looking up to stare into his lovely dark eyes. She felt the warmth of his hands as he embraced her. She had almost forgotten her horrid vision, but it came crashing back the moment she felt his claws in her hair. "Justin," she said, pulling away. "There's something I need to tell you." He moved to the side, allowing her to enter. She froze the moment she stepped in the room. A strange black object lay in pieces on his desk, a pile of silver next to it. "What is that thing?" she asked, voice shaking. Justin shut the door softly behind her. He then followed her gaze to the things on his desk.

"It's a gun," he told her. "A very powerful weapon used by the humans." He went over, and quickly assembled it. "I've been working on it for some time."

"You made that?" her eyes widened. She hadn't known he was capable of such things.

He nodded. "Yes, I learned how to make them some time ago," he put it away in a space behind a small tapestry, letting the cloth fall. You couldn't have told it was there. "I knew we couldn't remain in the fifteenth century with our defenses forever, especially now that we know of NIMH's threat."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He motioned to the bed, sitting beside her. "I had a dream about what happened before we escaped. It was actually one of the first nights we were there…"

_Flashback_

Schultz finished locking the last cage, taking a clipboard into his hands. He had grown older in the years that the first group of rats had been gone, but he figured he could start over with these new subjects. His hair was thinning, slowly changing to a dirty grey, his eyes losing their joyful gleam. He was close to sixty years old. He turned from the wall, only to find a young man standing behind him. "Yes, Remington," he said. "What is it?"

Remington was young, only thirty-two, with a sleek, wiry form. His long dark hair was pulled back; he ran a hand down the black stubble that covered his chin. His skin remained a deep, even tan, no matter what time of year it was. He smirked, pulling out a long knife. Schultz backed away, knowing what the man had in mind. "Remington," he pleaded. "Are you insane?"

Nigel slid the blade across the doctor's palm, but something prevented his blood from hitting the floor. Schultz backed away, gripping the wound. He could see the demonic cast in Nigel's black eyes, the pearl white teeth flashed in an insane grin. He held the blade to the man's throat, slowly sinking the tip through his windpipe. The old man gasped for breath, but felt a strange calm wash over him. "You've failed for the final time," hissed Remington. It was the last thing Schultz ever heard. A moment passed, then he fell dead. Blood soaked into his clothes, but it still wouldn't touch the floor. The grin widened when he saw that the spell was working.

He slowly knelt to examine the corpse, feeling for a pulse, delighted to find none. He slowly closed the pale blue eyes, taking his blade from the wrinkled white flesh. He wiped the red on Schultz's coat, taking the body in his grasp; he then brought it to the incinerator. As the flames slowly began to devour the body, Remington laughed as he licked the blood from his hands. He was in charge now, and things were going to change.

_End flashback_

She shivered, hiding against him. She felt his arm wrap tightly around her, his hand on her chin as he brought up her face to meet his. He knew she hadn't wanted this, to be pulled away from the life she had known only to be thrust into a dangerous battle for freedom. He brushed the hair from her cheek, wiping a tear from her eye. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. It slowly grew deeper as her fear was ebbed away by the warmth of his lips. In a few minutes she reached up to undo the top clasp of his shirt…


	8. Peace and Warning

Peace and Warning

Justin awoke with a strange warmth in his arms, a slight pressure coating his chest. He looked down, seeing a white head of hair; Elizabeth. He smiled, recalling what had happened the night before. The early light of dawn was just beginning to creep through the window, the last of the stars fleeing from its light. The chirps of birds quietly filtered through the thin layer of glass in the rock. He kissed her forehead, causing a slight stir coupled with a small sigh. A moment later she opened her eyes.

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

He chuckled, pulling her along as he sat up. Their clothes were gathered in a crumbled heap at the foot of the bed. She smiled, but it quickly faded as she recalled what else had occurred the previous evening. Not only had she informed him of a horrid vision, she had seen a frightening weapon, and not for the first time. The scientists on the farm had carried similar machines, but she'd never gotten close enough to hear or see what they had been. She was pulled from the revere by a hand on her shoulder. "Elizabeth?"

She shook her head, staring into his eyes. Her tears instantly dried when she saw the courage in their depths. She knew that he would never let anything happen to her. Taking on a mind of their own, her hands secured themselves on the back of his neck, their lips connecting thoroughly. The romance was cut short by a sharp sound coming from outside.

Jeremy crash-landed, snapping twigs and dropping amongst fallen leaves to the ground. He had just seen a frightening sight, and knew he had to tell them. He gazed frantically about, seeing nothing but a ripening field. Where was everyone? Sure, the light was just beginning to slip into the valley, but the sun was well risen, and the rats of NIMH had always been known as early risers. Jeremy was still shaking debris from his feathers when a small voice called out to him. It was a strange girl, running as she shouted his name.

"Jeremy, are you alright?" she was breathing heavily when she reached him, a simple gown thrown over her body.

"Don't worry about me, Mrs. B," he said. The combination of her scent and her voice quickly told him who it was. He had just been too frazzled to notice the first time. He got to his feet as Justin came to her side. "I came here to warn you guys," the bird continued. He pointed toward the southern rim of the valley, toward the farm. "There's a group of rats coming this way, hundreds of them, and they aren't very friendly."

"What?" said Elizabeth. Jeremy held up his wing, which was bleeding from a wound caused by an arrow. The shaft was still partially embedded in his flesh, the other half lying among the twigs.

"They shot at me the moment they saw me," he explained. "It's the reason my landing was a…uh…a bit messier than usual."

She fought a smirk as she quickly pulled the arrow away, tossing it to the ground. She took an old cape from around her shoulders, tearing it into strips as she wrapped the wound. His landings had always been "a bit messy". She finished the last knot before allowing him to continue. "By the rate they're going it won't be long until they arrive."

"Are you sure about this?" Justin was always skeptical when it came to threats, especially if the informant was a bird known for exaggerating. But the bloody shaft at his feet told him that this was indeed true. He turned to Elizabeth, gripping her hand. "Go and inform the others. We need to be ready for this." She nodded, sprinting back toward the cliffs. The young rat then turned to the bird. "Tell me everything you can about these rats."

Elizabeth didn't know what to do, or whom she should tell first. The halls were just beginning to fill when she returned, and she suddenly got an idea. She spent a moment wandering the halls until she found who she was looking for. "Ashton!"

He turned, looking a bit unfamiliar in the clothes he wore. As well as a doctor, Ashton was also a member of the guard; he would know just what to do. His dark eyes flashed as he turned to her.

"Elizabeth," he said. "Is something the matter?"

She nodded, repeating to him what the crow had said, and what Justin had told her. "We have less than a week until they arrive," she finished.

He was stunned. So, it seemed, no matter where they went, NIMH would always be a threat. He considered arguing, saying that they were peaceful creatures, but cast it aside, knowing that even the most placid peoples had fought when they needed to. "I'll go inform the rest of the guard," he said. "You just need to tell a few people; it'll spread like wildfire afterwards." She barely had time to nod before he was jogging off toward the barracks. She then tried to continue her task, but the people she hailed refused to stop, especially if they were among the younger generations. It didn't take long before she gave up, realizing that they would always listen to her children. But why would they listen to them, but not to her? She shoved the question aside as she hurried off to find them.

She found Timothy first, resting in the library after a morning with his brother. His limbs were sore, but he figured he'd get used to it after a while. He was in the middle of a rather exciting book when he saw a flash of color from the corner of his eye. "Mum?" he whispered.

"Oh, thank goodness I found you," she said quietly. "There's something I need to tell you." She quickly related the facts, ending with saying that he needed to tell the others. "I've tried, but they still won't listen to me."

He nodded, setting the novel aside. "Martin and Cynthia are outside," he informed her. "And Teresa's in the sewing department. I'll see if I can get them to listen."

It was late. She collapsed on the couch, exhausted after all the running around she had done. She didn't know why she was so tired. Thankfully, her children had believed every word that left her lips, and they had taken the liberty of informing the rest of the colony. She hadn't seen Justin since that morning, but knew that he must have been helping to prepare. She closed her eyes, wanting to sleep until the front door creaked quietly open.

Justin stood in the space, the light gleam of sweat evident on his forehead. He doffed his cape, tossing it over a chair before kneeling in front of her. They shared a quick kiss before he updated her.

"According to Jeremy there are at least three hundred of them," he began. "They outnumber the guard nearly three to one."

"Surely they aren't the only ones who know how to fight," she tried to sit up, only to feel a sharp pain in her abdomen. She lay back down.

He shook his head. "No they aren't, but they're more experienced than the rest of us."

"What about you?" she asked.

He laughed. "I wasn't named captain because of my sense of humor," he said. "Though I think it helped."

She giggled, typical of him to joke at such a time, then became serious. "What do you suppose the outcome will be?"

"Honestly? I can't really be sure at this point, I just hope there aren't too many lives lost."

A tear slid down her cheek, though she didn't know why. He reached up to wipe it away. "You're frightened, I know. I am as well."

"Hm, now I find that hard to believe," a faint smile crossed her lips. He grinned, rising to his feet. He held out a hand, pulling her close.

"I'll always fear for your safety," he said quietly. He ran his claws gently through her hair. "And for your children's as well."

She smiled, sighing happily as she rested her head on his shoulder, though she had to stand on her toes to do so. It was hard to believe that, in the midst of war, she was still able to feel happiness, even if the times were often short-lived. She also knew that he would need to watch for Julian. "He's dangerous," she said aloud. He didn't reply.

He turned, seeing a vague shape approach. It was 243, without the others. He saluted smartly, then spoke in a low tone. "Mission objective achieved," he said quietly. "Their defenses are twelfth century at best."

"Where are the triplets?" snapped Julian. The soldier shook his head.

"Missing in action," he replied. "They vanished soon after we began the trek back."

Julian cursed, knowing where they had gone. "Those traitors," he hissed. 322, 332 and 324, all his own sons, had abandoned them for the other side, meaning that they were in trouble. The triplets all looked like their mother, but had his speed and strength, which were further enhanced by their youth. He had never cared much for them, but he knew that they would reveal everything to Justin's men, giving a further advantage to the enemy.

"And about that female…" 243 trailed off.

"Yes. Has something happened to her?"

The soldier shook his head. "Let's just say she's being kept warm for you," he saluted quickly before rushing off, not wanting to see the vile gleam forming in his captain's eyes. Someone else had fallen for her? Perfect. He always enjoyed a woman more knowing that he had stolen her from another. Besides, his rival was the most likely to not survive the battle. He'd always made sure of that.

_Prepare yourself, Elizabeth, _he thought. He gazed at the still distant cliffs. _I'm coming for you. _He turned to the troops, ordering them to press on. He was done wasting time.


	9. Awaiting Disaster

Awaiting Disaster

Silence is suffocating. So is worry. It was the eve of Julian's supposed arrival, and they struggled to prepare. All through the night before various sounds would echo from the stone walls. Blades were sharpened to perfection, arrows shafted, the tips dipped in a potent toxin. And, of course, their newest defense still needed to be tested.

Justin was a natural when it came to them, so he was in charge of teaching the others to use them. He kept Elizabeth close by his side, knowing that there was someone waiting to steal her. However, none were prepared for the three youths that stumbled, panting, through the undergrowth. Justin felt the gun drop from his hand, looking shocked as the trio approached him.

"You're Justin, right?" the smallest was the least out of breath. "My name's Greg and these are my brothers, Thomas and Austin. We've come to join you."

"How do we know we can trust you?" snapped Martin. "Where did you come from?"

"We were part of Julian's army," said Austin. He was a head taller than the young mouse. "But we've come to our senses."

Martin scoffed, but sat back down. Timothy rose to his feet. The cast was still on his arm. "I have to agree with my brother; how do we know we can trust you?"

"243?" said Thomas. "What are you doing here?"

"How did you arrive here so quickly?" asked Greg.

"Uh…I have no idea what you're talking about…" the young mouse backed away, sounding nervous. "Really 324…"

"Ha! You are 243!" cried Greg. "He's the only one among you that could know such a thing!"

Timothy groaned, realizing the mistake he had just made. He reached up, untying the gauze on his wrist. It was covered in horrid scars, branding him part of Julian's forces. His eyes narrowed, glowing black, voice gaining a demonic cast. "So, you've discovered my little game, but that's not going to help you." He lunged, as though to strike, but instead fell forward. Martin stood behind him, fist still raised. In a moment he sat back down, but not after binding his brother.

"Sorry about that," he said quietly. Cynthia backed away, almost to her mother's feet. She and Teresa weren't part of the class, but they were still young enough that they didn't feel safe unless they were near Elizabeth, especially now. Justin turned to the triplets, voice harsh as he asked. "What is your real reason for coming here?"

Austin stepped up, kneeling before him. Greg and Thomas soon followed. "We were sent to spy on you, and then report back to Julian, but we've decided that we want to play for the other team in this twisted game."

"That's what all this is to our leader," added Thomas. "A game; he doesn't care who loses their lives, on either side. All he cares about is fulfilling his own objectives." He shot a quick glance toward Elizabeth. "If he wins, then it won't be long until NIMH finds a way into the valley."

"We want to help you," said Greg. "We know the secrets of his army. We can help you prepare in all the right places, and we'll be able to keep an eye on 243,"

Austin interrupted, pointing at Timothy. "He's the reason Julian believes he has an advantage. He's been told of your defenses, the layout of your home, everything, down to the smallest detail."

Justin gazed at them, wondering if they could really be trusted. He knew that sending them away was letting Julian keep his advantage, but letting them into the colony? It felt like he would lose something either way, but figured that this held the lesser risk.

"Alright," he said eventually. "But only if you remain within the cliffs until this is over." He didn't bother adding what would happen if they were caught sneaking out. There was only one entrance, and it was guarded day and night. The boys nodded in unison, not seeing the dark shadow in the forest behind them.

Stars had long since filled the sky, but Justin was still awake. He gazed down at the gun in his hands, practically hearing the gears as more were made. With an enemy dangerous as this, they would need all they could get. Bows, arrows and swords would still be used, though he doubted they would do much damage. The triplets had told him everything, and it only compounded what Elizabeth had said before. Thinking of it brought on NIMH, and he began to wonder just who this Remington person was, and whether this had been the original intention of the experiment, or just his own twisted ideas. But had he really killed Schultz?

_I wouldn't put it past him, _he thought. If he desired to create such hellish creatures, then it was more than likely that he was willing to spill blood in order to do so. _But why wasn't he caught? Surely they would have noticed Schultz missing and at least begun asking questions, wouldn't they? _He would never know that Remington was a master of magic, and that he had drained the memories of Schultz from everyone who had come in contact with him; it was as though the man had never even _existed_ after his murder. _But how could a human…_his thoughts were interrupted by a small knock on the door.

"Justin?" a sweet voice said quietly. It was Elizabeth; he figured she'd be asleep at such a time. He turned to the door, slipping the gun beneath a pile of cloth. A moment later her body trembled in his arms, but it didn't last long. "I figured you would still be awake," she said. He shut the door softly behind her, eyes tracing the curves of her form. The only flaw was that her waist seemed a bit thicker than usual. She turned to him, eyes glowing in the dim light that flooded the chamber. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Is something bothering you?" he questioned. He pulled her atop him as he lay on the bed. He brushed the hair from her face, kissing her gently.

"No, not necessarily," she fell away, lying beside him. There was a flash of discomfort in her eyes. Had he done something to upset her? "I just don't know that this is the right time to say it." He ran a hand down her side, pausing at her stomach. He could have sworn he…"You felt it, didn't you?"

"Felt what?" he asked. She sat up, and he could finally see that her belly was swollen. "You mean that you're…" he nearly choked on the word, recalling what had happened last time. "Pregnant?"

She nodded. "I've had the suspicion I was," she told him. "I was made sure of it this morning."

He reached up, running a hand through his hair. He was thrilled to hear about it, but also worried that it may end up like his first love, how she and their child had died within hours of each other.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

Justin hesitated, then decided it was best to tell her. "Her name was Amelia," he began. "She was my wife. She died while in labor, and our son perished soon after her. NIMH took me away a few days later." He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to. Tears filled her eyes; he reached up to wipe them away. "Don't worry," he said. "I've never forgotten them, but there is still room in my heart for others."

She was quiet, slowly digesting this new information. In a moment she spoke, "Justin, do you love me?"

He brushed her cheek. "As I did them," he said solemnly. "More than my own life." He kissed her deeply.

He didn't want to wake up. It was the day Julian arrived in the valley, the day their world would again be thrown into chaos. Elizabeth still lay peacefully beside him. Carefully, he pulled his arm from her waist, slipping from the bed as quietly as he could. He pulled on his clothes, with one extra addition, slipping the gun in his belt. He had just been about to leave when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Please, be careful out there," she whispered. He turned to her, nodding slowly.

"Don't worry," he whispered. "I'll be back tonight."

She nodded, stepping aside as he strode into the main room. Martin stood at attention, wrapped in similar garb. Elizabeth didn't want him to fight, but she knew that he was more than old enough to make his own choices. Besides, he had kept the others safe the entire time she'd been a captive of NIMH. She looked around for her other son, recalling that he wasn't there.

Timothy was in the infirmary, bound wrist and ankle to a bed. He was under constant supervision, as well as the effects of a strong sedative. The rats were taking precautions, making sure he would never get the chance to betray them again. The very thought of it sent his blood boiling, and he was determined to rip Julian to shreds when he got the chance. While at NIMH, Justin had been a subject in an extra experiment, similar to what Julian had, but the injections had been of a higher concentration. However, instead of getting results more rapidly, the scientists found that it only made their creatures more dangerous when cross. And Justin was furious.

His hands were clenched beneath his dark cape, and his stride was enough that Martin had to run to keep up. People near them shed away, never knowing what he would do in such a state. The young mouse, however, was oblivious of such things. But he dared not speak as the rat stopped before the entrance. The enemy was still a long ways off, but they could clearly be seen. The hall behind him was full of soldiers kissing their wives, hugging their children as though this were the last chance they had. None of them were going to die, not on his watch. There was a small tugging on his cape, and he looked down to find Cynthia, her brown eyes filled with tears.

"Be careful, Justin," she whispered. She gripped his large paw in both of hers. He smiled, kneeling as he embraced her.

"Don't worry, Cynthia," he said quietly. He pulled away, hands on her shoulders. "I'll be back tonight, I promise." She nodded, moving away as he stood. In a few minutes Elizabeth came behind her. There was a red glint in her grasp.

"You're going to need this," she slipped the Stone over his head, hands resting on his chest. His body felt harder than normal. Unbeknownst to her, he wore a thin coat of steel beneath his clothes, the uniform colored tan and grey to blend with the cliffs. He nodded, hoping this wasn't the last time he could drown in her beauty. One hand slid softly to her cheek, the other stroking her stomach. Already it was bigger than it had been the night before. He leaned forward, planning on just a light kiss, shocked when she wrapped her arms around him, deepening their contact. He wrapped his arms tightly around her. Several moans sounded when she pulled away, several groups of young girls sulking back into the tunnels. "Please be safe."

He nodded, turning back toward the entrance. One of the two steel doors had been drawn back into the earth, making an opening just large enough for a small group to get through at once. Justin turned to his men, nodding once.


	10. Conflict

Conflict

They crouched beneath the low wall, seeing Julian and his men approaching from the south. The crest of rock was a natural formation, further guarding them from unwanted adversaries. It also made for quick camouflage. The stone was all the same color, layered in bands to give the effect of an old cake. The bottom layer was swirled tan and grey stone, their uniforms effectively blending with it. The shadows also helped, adding to their cover, making the snipers higher in the cliffs nearly impossible to see. Added to that was their home field advantage, though he wasn't sure how much the latter would help; Austin had said that Julian had been informed as to the layout of their home down to the last detail. Justin smirked, realizing there were a few things the mouse had forgotten.

One was the hidden crevices in which the snipers now lay; another was an inner chamber where the sun shone through a hole in the cliff. The field of wheat on the valley floor was completely natural, yet inedible because of a toxic mold that sprouted from it. He knew they would make the mistake of thinking it was their source of food, stealing it for themselves. It was also the only other cover on the southern or western side. The cliffs spanned the north and east, a deciduous and needle leaf forest coating them, allowing the shadows to hide them long into the day. The western side was taken up by the lake and waterfall, which flowed into a hidden reservoir, accessible only through the twists and turns of the halls carved into the stone.

The sun had barely risen over the mountains, the floor cool, but the rats remained in their positions, cobras ready to strike. The seconds ticked by like hours, but Julian was gaining ground. Truth was he couldn't even see them, so wasn't bothering to hide himself. He strode by the poisoned field, seeing the light reflect off the lake, thinking about how things would change once he was in charge. Elizabeth would marry him, after she saw his forces win, her heart captured by his skills and cunning, and her children's minds would be twisted to suit his needs. He had already done it with Timothy.

That was the real reason he had told her to stay from her home while on the farm. Timothy, though bright, hadn't been that hard to manipulate. It had just taken some…old fashioned discipline, and a bit of his twisted magic. In just a few days the boy's heart and emotions had been warped to suit his needs. His plan had been to brainwash all the Brisbys, but he'd temporarily given up after she'd rejected his proposal, though now he was determined to see it through to the end. He just needed the right opportunity.

"Hold," he held out a hand, catching movement from the shadows. The slanted rays of the sun now beat fully down upon the open floor, causing waves of heat to shimmer up from its surface. It was going to be a scorching day, all the worse for his army. He shielded his eyes as he gazed across the blazing ground, now positive he had seen something. He motioned for them to stay behind, drawing his blade as he went ahead. Again Justin smirked. He'd fallen right into their trap.

He was silent, treading quickly along the darkened path, the scents of summer blooming in his lungs. While he had suffered severe casualties, the worst injury on their side had been a broken wrist. He intended to change that. They had launched a surprise attack, sending volley after volley of near invisible arrows, taking down anyone who stood beneath the cloud. The evil rat had no idea what had slain his men, of who had done it, but he knew he was far from beaten.

His best soldiers remained in the woods, training the new recruits they'd picked up along the way. Rats of every shape and color crowded their camp, but he felt it wouldn't go to waste in the end. The new fighters weren't from NIMH, but they had been promised long life and comfort; that is, if they survived. They had no idea he was lying to them.

_They don't matter, _he told himself. _None of them do. _Though he came on as being a brilliant general, Julian Genre was, in fact, a coward. His rule was: don't get your hands dirty doing what someone else could do just as well, if not better. His mother had taught him that from his birth. Truth was, Julian had never met his father, or had even known who he was. All he knew was that his mother, a dark beauty named Ebony, had been just one of the rats his father had slept with, and that she had died shortly before he'd been captured by NIMH. But he would never know the cause.

He knew he was insane, feeling this way about someone who was bound to his enemy, but he couldn't help the warmth that pounded through his veins whenever her scent spilled past his nose. His heart raced at the thought of her beauty, greatly enhanced now that she was one of his kind. How he longed to feel his claws in her hair, the curves of her body pressed to his bare skin, for her heart to long as his did. He reached in his shirt, pulling out a small black stone. A single red line pulsed within its depths, the beating heart of the child held beneath his control.

_I promise, Elizabeth, _he silently vowed. _I'm going to get you back, even if I have to sacrifice everything. _He lifted a claw, scraping it along the surface, hearing a small scream echo in his ears as the line was severed, bleeding into the black stone…

Timothy couldn't help the sound that fell from his lips. It felt as though he were being torn apart from the inside out. Ashton was thrown from a light doze, gazing, frightened, at the boy. He yelled as though possessed by the devil. It felt as though hours had passed before the unearthly sound shattered in his throat.

"Timmy," he asked. He gently shook the child, but could get no response. He felt his neck for a pulse. It was quick, painful and terrified. Tears dripped from his tightly closed eyes. When at last they opened, the gaze behind them was clouded and dull.

"What happened?" his voice was rough.

"I don't know," Ashton spoke honestly. "You just started screaming, as though you were being murdered."

The youth had a hand pressed to his chest. His heartbeat was still unnaturally fast. "It felt like I was," he said at last. "As though something were tearing me apart."

The doctor held a cup softly to his lips. The fluid inside smelled strangely sweet. Timothy shook his head. "Why am I here?" he asked. Ashton took his time explaining, telling as much as he knew about how the mind worked, and how easily even the brightest could be taken over.

"Julian had you beneath his control," he finished. "He trained you to spy on our colony, and also to fight us. He figured no one would suspect the son of Jonathan Brisby."

Timothy gazed down at his body, realizing he was no longer sickly thin, seeing the scars that coated his wrist. "But why pick me?" he breathed.

Ashton shook his head. "That I can't answer," he replied. He gave the lad a small push to the shoulder, urging him back beneath the soft sheets. "But I believe it best that you got some sleep. You may have an early start tomorrow." he nodded, turning on his side. In a few minutes his breath was even and deep.

_Julian must have released him, _thought Ashton. The flesh visible from the mark was no longer a sickly hue, but a fair shade that matched the rest of his skin, and his eyes no longer held that ghostly gleam. He just hoped it would remain this way. He shook his head, drawing the curtain, knowing the boy no longer needed to be under guard. _I'll inform Justin soon as possible, _he thought, then ventured to his own bed to sleep.

"What's going to happen to us?" Justin turned to the door, seeing Elizabeth stand in the space. For once her hair was pulled back from her shoulders, held in place by a silk scarf. He finished unbuttoning the soiled vest, pulling it away before tossing it in a small basket.

"I can't say for sure," he said. The wound in his hand burned, blood staining the bandage that covered it. "There's no telling how long this may last."

She glided closer, resting her head against his chest. She could feel the metal lining sewn into his shirt. She took a deep breath; he smelled of sweat, blood and wood. "I'm worried for you," she whispered. It was so quiet he barely heard.

He tilted her chin back with his hand, lips touching her cheek. "I know you're frightened," he said. "But I promise I'll get you out of this, no matter what happens."

She gazed in his eyes. "Julian wants to murder you," she sobbed. Her grip tightened on his shirt. "I don't want you going out there," he placed a claw on her lips, pulling her to the bed. He held her close as he shared more of his secret.

"I was part of an extra experiment back at NIMH," he began. "The idea was to see if a higher concentration achieved faster results. It worked, but not in the way they expected," he paused; the bandage had suddenly become very interesting to him. He curled his fingers. "They managed to make me as dangerous as Julian, perhaps even more so, however they neglected the fact that I wasn't evil, that I wasn't going to be a weapon of murder;"- his fist tightened.- "but it seems that's what I've become."

His gaze remained glued to the floor. She didn't run, however. He felt her tail glide past his waist, her hands clasping themselves on his neck. She buried her face deeper in his chest.

"If anything, this is my fault," she whispered. "I told them where the valley was, I allowed them to follow me here."

"They would have found us regardless of what you said." He wrapped his arms tightly around her. "Because that's what they were trained to accomplish."

A moment of silence, then, "What can they do to us?"

He shook his head. "There's no telling what he has planned, though if he wins we will have to face a greater enemy: NIMH."

"They can't come here, can they?"

"Knowing them, they'll find some way, even if it means breaking the law. Remington has become obsessed with finding us, and he will let nothing stop him until he reaches his goal."

"But what does he plan to do?"

He stopped, gazing deeply into her eyes, feeling the child growing within her. "I think it would be best if you didn't know," he said quietly. She sniffled, falling against him.

The sky was overcast, a welcome change from the oppressive heat of past days. A fine mist coated the valley, there was no sign of Julian upon the horizon. The rats took advantage of the rain, using the time it provided to better their weapons, making sure they were ready for whatever NIMH threw at them. Justin's ears were still ringing from the sessions he'd taught, but he knew that every minute spent training was helping to avoid disaster. He went home with Cynthia clasped in his arms, the child having fallen asleep despite the vile noise. Martin was in the infirmary with Timothy, and Teresa was nowhere to be found. He figured Elizabeth was still in her room, unable to stay awake because of the baby.

_He's growing so fast, _he thought, and wondered how long it would be before he could hold his child. He just hoped it wouldn't be a repeat of heartbreaking history. _It shouldn't, _he told himself, though his aching pulse told him different. There would always be a risk, no matter how careful they were. But he could still hope.

Cynthia sighed, gently stirring the fur on his neck, tightening her grip on his shirt. It had been so long since Jonathan's death, he wondered if she even remembered the mouse. Justin longed to have a family, knowing that he was more than willing to be a father to her, and her siblings, especially since he'd been there to watch them grow up, then later having dreams where he told Jonathan just how much they missed him, and what he was missing.

His mind strayed to one of the first times he'd looked in on her family, watching the house from afar while she spoke to Ages about Timothy. The children had all been so young then, especially Cynthia, who had to be the most adorable little girl he'd ever seen. He smiled, recalling how she had tried to tell that shrew what was wrong with her brother, only to be ignored for her older sister.

_They've grown up so fast, _he thought, and held the girl closer. The sight of their leader carrying a child did cause a few stares, but they were ignored as he imagined what a future with Elizabeth would be like, teaching her children all he knew of the world, being there when they needed him most. He just hoped this war wouldn't prevent him from doing so. He shifted his grasp to open the door, only to find it slightly ajar. Cautiously, he widened the gap, slipping through with barely a sound. Nothing seemed amiss, at least not at first. There were a few faint scents in the air, but nothing to signal foul play, though he couldn't help the unease that crept up his spine…


	11. Danger Renewed

Danger Renewed

He gazed down at the pair he had captured, fighting to keep the grin from his face. He could sense the life growing within her, tainting it with a black spark from his stone. The effect was unknown, but it would make the child unique, if it survived. _How I've longed to hold her, _he thought, but found he felt no joy when he took her in his arms. Was his twisted heart now playing against him? He lay her back upon the bed, which a simple mat made of a dark, soft cloth. His eyes then shifted to the other girl.

She was merely pretty, the eldest daughter of Natasha Brisby. He recalled often watching her as he stole the mind of her brother Timothy, wondering what it would be like to be pure. His soul slowly began to grow lighter within him, as though the sight of her was cleansing the evil from his heart. He could feel his pulse quicken as she stirred, her blue eyes slowly opened to take in her surroundings.

"What happened?" she asked. "Where am I?" she stood, turning until she faced him. She gasped, feeling hypnotized by his silvery-black eyes. "Who are you?"

"My name's Julian," he said quietly. "From NIMH."

"You're the one who…took…" she trailed off, unable to speak as the memories hit her. For the past few months she'd dreamt of someone born evil, how he'd changed simply by looking at her, how she'd fallen hopelessly in love with the man in those dreams. "Julian," she whispered. Her voice sent fire flowing through him, even more so when he felt the breeze of her breath in his ear. "I already know who you are."

"You…do?" he found himself shocked, for the first time in his life. "How?"

"I've dreamt of you since my mother was taken by NIMH," she whispered. She felt his hands fall gently to her waist.

"And I of you," he said quietly. He pulled her close, and kissed her tenderly, unaware of what was to occur later that night.

The camp was quiet. Not a soul stirred as they waited for dawn, save for the rats that stood before Julian's tent. A series of sounds all too familiar to their ears had fluttered through the campsite until recently, and they figured that the people inside must have long since calmed down. One, 317, pulled back the flap, seeing Elizabeth slumber against the far wall, sensing that she'd been sedated to keep her from hearing. Lying in the bed on the other side was his leader, a mere shadow against the night. He turned, a single eye open, narrowed toward his subordinate. 317 felt the cloth drop from his hand, he then turned away, staring back into the field. Julian, however, was far from being at ease.

He tossed and turned, unable to rest for the pain that flooded him. It had started softly at first, as the mild aching that comes from a longing heart, to a great pounding that threatened to shatter his bones. It only happened when he disobeyed orders, which had only happened once before. He fought to wake, yet was unable to open his eyes as a dark thread of sound echoed coldly through his skull.

"183!" it hissed.

"Y-Yes, sir?" he questioned. He gazed about, seeing nothing but darkness. A harsh light soon coated his vision; he was barely able to see the figure of Remington emerging from it. His darkly handsome face was twisted with fury as he addressed his tiny soldier.

"Your orders were to find the valley and destroy its inhabitants," he began, eyes blazing.

"Yes, sir," he began, but was silenced.

"I expected you to have succeeded by now!" growled Remington. "What is the meaning of this?"

"They're stronger than we thought," said Julian. "They've taken the lives of nearly half of my men-" his words were cut off by a searing pain in his head, the final sight before darkness was the shadow of Remington seeping into his skull.

Julian snapped awake, hoping it had been a dream. He soon found it hadn't been, as the pain only increased as he tumbled from bed. Teresa, who until now had slept beside him, screamed shrilly in terror, seeing the strange light surrounding him as he was lifted from the floor.

"You've failed me for the last time," Nigel's voice echoed in his mind, chilling him to his very core as he felt his heart return to its stony state, the hatred for life once again filling his veins. Seconds later he collapsed on the ground, panting heavily as his gaze traveled to his love.

"Teresa," he moaned. He lifted an outstretched hand, bloody tears streaking his face. "Get away from here, now!" he rose to his knees, clutching his chest. "Get your mother and run!"

"Julian," he pushed her away as she tried to get near. He could only hold it back for so long. "What's going on?"

"Run!" he screamed, falling as she stared frozen in horror. He rose seconds later, an insane grin on his blood spattered face, a vile laugh echoing from his lips. His eyes held a dark light she'd never seen before. When next he spoke, the voice was the most terrible sound she'd ever heard. "Yes, run, little girl. Run back to your colony, tell them of their fate once I finish this world, once and for all!" his laughter grated in her ears as she grasped her mother's hand, pulling her along as dark orbs of magic flooded the ground behind them. She could barely see as tears flooded her eyes. Her dream had come true, only to become a nightmare from which she couldn't escape. She wanted to wake up, but knew that this was no dream, this was real.

"I'm sorry, Julian," she whispered. Elizabeth gazed back, knowing it was even worse than before.

A sharp pounding pulled him from a light sleep. Justin rose, panting lightly, feeling his heart race as his door banged open. It was Timothy, looking scared.

"Justin!" he cried. He grabbed the rat's hand, not seeing the pained look as his nails dug into the wound that covered it.

"Timothy, what-"

"We found Teresa," the boy said. He calmed down once Justin laid a hand on his head. It was the same thing his father had done. He gazed in his friend's dark eyes, seeing shock and worry, and also confusion. "We found Teresa," he repeated quietly. "And my mother; they're in the infirmary, and they're asking for you. They said it's vital you hear it."

Not waiting for a reply, the mouse pulled him along, Justin again being thankful he wore shirts to bed. In a few minutes they emerged through the double doors, the white-tiled floor glinting in the soft light of the moon. Ages had Teresa pulled to the side, the two holding a whispered conference. Elizabeth was crying softly against Ashton's shoulder, shaking in his one-armed embrace.

"Shh, calm down, it's alright," he spoke soothingly, though his words had little effect. He looked up as his leader came near, shaking his head. "We can't get her to speak coherently," he said. "It appears as though she's been sedated." He stood, gently pulling Elizabeth from him. His left sleeve was soaked with her tears. He then prodded her into Justin's waiting arms.

His lips curled, just a little, when he felt his child growing inside her. He wiped the tears from her eyes, resting a hand on the small of her back. "What happened?" he whispered.

"I…don…" she shook her head, still unable to speak clearly.

"I think I can answer that," Teresa came up behind him, shaking as she thought of what she was about to share. She had already told Ages everything and, though he had been shocked, the old mouse informed her that sharing this with the rest of them was the best thing she could do. She took a deep breath, glancing once at her mother as she prepared to tell her story. "Timothy wasn't the only one of us to fall beneath Julian's power. I'm afraid I fell under his spell as much as my brother did."

"What do you mean?" said Ashton. Teresa just looked at him. She didn't want to tell them, yet knew she had no choice.

"Ever since he arrived I've dreamt of him," she continued. "I knew somehow there was some good in him, and that he just needed the right person to bring it out. He may have kidnapped my mother, but he didn't take me. I…I love him."

"Are you insane?" blurted Martin. "He's a monster! How can you-?"

"He's not doing this because he wants to," his sister snapped. "Nigel is making him capture our home, and that's not even the worst of what's happened…" the room fell deathly silent as she slowly related what happened next.

Elizabeth stared out the window, seeing the clouded horizon. The story her daughter had told had forced new fear to flood her heart, a strange wonder filling her mind as she thought of what might occur. _What have we done to deserve this? _She thought. Her eyes shifted to the still form beside her. How was he able to sleep so peacefully, especially with all that was happening? A tear came to her eye, as she again realized that she was the reason this was happening, the reason NIMH was now on their doorstep. It fell, striking her hand, sounding impossibly loud in the choking silence. _I shouldn't have come here, _she thought. Again her eyes drifted to him, seeing the steady rhythm of his breath, wishing she could slumber peacefully.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She fell forward, sobbing into the gown she had clenched between her hands, the soiled remains of her heart finally spilling as soft cries fell from her lips. In moments she felt a firm hand on her back, caressing it softly.

"You've nothing to feel sorry about," he spoke quietly. He wiped the tears that streaked her face. She shook her head, unable to face him. "Natasha, look at me." she still refused. Gripping her chin with strong, tender fingers, he lifted her face so their eyes met. "None of this is your fault," he said firmly. "They would have come regardless of your actions."

"I can't help but feel guilt," she sobbed. "After all, I'm the one who told them where the valley was; I'm the one who spread your secret to them!"

"It doesn't matter," he said, gripping her shoulders. He came closer, so their lips nearly met. "What matters is that I've found you again, that fate brought us back together. I'm not going to let anything happen to you, or the children. I'm going to protect you, no matter what the cost." A small gasp left her throat, eyes widening when she realized what he was willing to sacrifice for her, but he wasn't done yet. "I'll die before I allow them to lay a hand on you," he whispered. "Regardless of anything you think you have done." His warm lips touched her cheek, his mouth gliding along her jaw to her ear. "But for now, let's just enjoy the peace." He pulled her from the bed, leading her to a wall on which hung a dark sheet. He tossed it aside, revealing a wooden door settled into the stone. It was covered in expert carvings, showing beautiful flowers in a lush garden. She could faintly hear the sound of flowing water. "Follow me," his voice was lost to her as he slowly opened it.

The land beyond was settled within a wide, circular cavern, the floor beneath their feet covered in the lushest grass she'd ever seen. A full moon shone brightly overhead, coating everything in its sweet silver light. Flowers and vines covered the stone walls, filling the space with a multitude of different scents and colors, and farther off there appeared to be trees that were laden with fruit. She took a step forward, eyes locked on a waterfall that flowed from a crack in the granite, splashing into a delicate pool, its surface littered with fallen petals, the clear water flowing to a small river that wound like a ribbon throughout the tall cavern. She turned in a slow circle, trying to take in everything at once, her eyes falling at last to the form of her lover. He had a single red rose clasped in his hand, twirling the stem with his fingers, scraping away the thorns with his claws. He smiled.

"This is my favorite spot in the valley," he whispered, coming nearer. He settled the bloom between two strands of her silvery hair. His eyes glowed beautifully when the soft light hit them. His hand drifted down to rest on her cheek, stroking her silky brown fur. "Before you arrived, I was here nearly every night, praying that your family was safe."

A slight grin formed on her features. Her hands curled about the cloth of his shirt, pulling him forward until their lips touched. His heart nearly burst from the passion. He held her close as her bloated belly would allow. They had found heaven in the midst of hell. When at last she pulled away, her eyes were glittering sapphires, her voice barely a thread as she spoke. "I love you," she rested her head over his heart. "Oh how I've longed to say that."

"And you have no idea how I've longed to hear it," he pulled away, kneeling before her as he grasped her hands in his. "Natasha Elizabeth," he said softly. "Will you marry me?"

She fell beside him, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "Oh, Justin, I thought you would never ask. Yes, yes, I will!" again they kissed, over and over, finally able to forget the terror that had filled their hearts, finally able to enjoy the blessed beauty of the night. But one question still burned in his mind; _how long will it last?_


	12. Black Blood's Magic

Black Blood's Magic

Austin gazed down from his post in the cliffs, seeing Julian's army approach in the distance. He'd always hated his father with a fierce passion, and so did his brothers, as they had all been present the night he had killed their mother. And all she had done was birth him a stillborn daughter. The heartless creature probably had more children than he could count, but he had chosen the girl he was close to marrying. And yet he hadn't always been that way.

_Flashback_

Julian shut the door softly behind him, hoping not to be caught. He had gotten lost in the vast tunnels of their home, and he knew that his mother would be furious with him for being late. He slipped quietly through the dense shadows of the chamber, not sensing her in any way. He then realized that Ages had sent him out so he wouldn't see his mother give birth. He had gotten bored waiting in the living room and had begun wandering throughout the colony. He stopped, and began listening. From the sounds that emitted from his parents' bedroom, his new sibling was taking their first breaths. He pushed the door open, seeing the old mouse with a blue bundle in his arms. Soft grey hands rose from it, grasping the cloth of his shirt.

"Is that my brother?" said Julian. Ebony nodded tiredly, smiling at her son.

"His name's Ashton," she whispered, voice hoarse from shouting. Tears of pain and exhaustion streamed down her cheeks. Carefully, Ages placed the baby in his brother's arms, going to tend to their mother. Julian smiled. Ashton looked just like her.

Ashton gazed about with his wide brown eyes, running tiny claws through his ash-grey fur. His soft hand clasped his brother's finger, bringing giggles from the boy. He sat with his brother in his lap, allowing the newborn to play with his paw. In a few minutes a small laugh bubbled up past his lips.

"Where's daddy?" asked Julian. "I want him to seen Ashton."

"He and your brother are very busy," Ages said quickly. Cadrian was the oldest of the Genre children, and the most unstable. He was the one most often seen with their father, Jenner. Julian nodded, gazing back down at Ashton, hoping the baby would be able to escape from Jenner's heartless manipulation. But even he couldn't have known what was to occur later that evening.

Cadrian tiptoed to his parents' room. Jenner was working late, and Ebony was resting from the pains of giving birth. She had been given some herbal tea to help her sleep. It worked too well. He wrapped his hands loosely around her neck, gradually increasing the pressure of his fingers. After a moment he brought them away, feeling for a pulse. There was none. He then went further down her body, his throat dry with thirst.

She was found by Julian the next morning. He was coming to wake her because Ashton was hungry. He shook her, only to find that she wouldn't wake up. "Mommy?" he shook harder. No response. Then, remembering what Ages had told him, he felt her neck, only to find that her heart was still. "Mommy…" he backed away, screaming when he realized his mother was dead. He turned, running back through the halls, trying to find help. The rats would never know what had really killed Ebony, or that the red sheets beneath her had been soaked with blood, more than was normal for a birth.

_End flashback_

Austin shivered. The air was cool in the pre-light shadows of dawn. Thomas sat beside him, gazing at the distant peaks of the western side, wondering what was to happen that day. It had been two weeks since they'd changed sides, and they had used that time to ready their new comrades, telling them which weapons would be most effective against Julian's men, and which to discard. It had also been their idea to give up the wheat fields, since they knew of the toxic mold that coated the stalks. Like Justin, they were natural shots, and they put it to good use by stealing the lives of their father's best fighters.

"You guys okay up there?" Greg's voice echoed through the small radio sitting between them. Austin brought it to his lips, pressing a switch on the side as he spoke.

"Yeah, we're alright, bro," he said. He paused a moment, gazing into the distance. "They're almost within range." he set it aside, watching as they came closer. Just a few more feet...

Justin felt his heart pound, the sound echoing in his ears like a roaring tide. He had knelt in the shadows close to an hour, keeping his eye trained on the distant ranks of his enemy. Though he knew he had to stay and help fight, he longed to feel Natasha's form in his arms, their son move as he grew inside her, comforting her children in ways that their father no longer could. _I'm going to be there for them, _he thought. He tossed aside his empty clip, shoving in a new one. He'd lost count of how many he'd used, how many souls had entered his deadly aim. The motions had become automatic as he continued to shoot, finding himself hoping that he'd need to use his blade instead of a gun.

It was too easy, picking them off while hiding in the shadows, and every night his body was sore from having been in a crouch the entire day. He enjoyed using his sword, yet despised the fact that NIMH's extra injections were making him lust for blood, but it was really just the beginning.

"Hey, Justin," said Greg. The youngest of the triplets knelt beside him, shaking. His weapon lay unused at his feet, his hands clenched tightly together. "I-I don't think I can do this anymore…"

The dark rat turned to him, kindness in his eyes. "It's alright if you're scared," he said quietly.

"I'm not scared, it's just…" he trailed off, realizing that he didn't know how he felt. Justin stopped firing, placing his hand on the youth's shoulder.

"Just what?" he asked.

Greg hesitated, then said in a flat voice, "Julian is my father. It just doesn't feel right, fighting him like this." His gaze remained glued to the ground. It was littered with leaves and debris. "I don't think I can anymore."

Justin's grip tightened. "Listen, kid," he said calmly. "I know this isn't what boys your age normally do. I don't care if you're scared or not, but there's nothing saying that you're forced to fight."

Greg just looked at him, then nodded slowly. Leaving his pack behind, he slowly began to make his way back into the tunnels. Justin watched him go, then forced himself back to the task at hand. He had read histories of human wars, how everyone suffered because of them, how even the youngest child was carted away, most of the time for no reason at all. Still feeling like he was trapped in autopilot, he allowed his mind to wander, remembering life back in the city, how the humans had spoken of something called a "cold war", where countries fought against each other, but little to no blood was spilled. The fact that he killed tore at his heart, but something inside told him to keep shooting, saying it was the only chance his people had to survive.

A shrill scream brought him back to the present. He looked, shocked to see blood erupt from the throat of his victim, the rat's skull lying in pieces about him as the body fell to the ground. The red fluid continued to flow, staining the parched soil that lapped it up so greedily. It seemed that even the earth was becoming bloodthirsty. He shook his head, turning away when he felt his mouth water. Sure, he had done it once, but that was far in the past; he fought to forget it, as well as other dark secrets.

"I'm going back," he said to no one in particular. He stood, leaving his things where they were, expecting to be shot as he strode back to the tunnels. He wasn't. Elizabeth was waiting for him when he came back inside. Her eyes shimmered when she saw that he was uninjured, but her smile vanished when she saw the anger in his eyes.

"Justin, are you alright?" she asked quietly. He looked at her, though didn't seem to see her.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," he said. He turned, running a hand over his face. "I just...need to be alone for a bit," he strode away, still running his claws through his hair. She stared after him, her eyes slowly shifting to the bloody fields outside.

Justin tossed the dark sheet aside, going hurriedly through his hidden door. He didn't know how much longer he could keep this inside. The gold of the Stone thudded coldly against his chest, echoing his racing heart, reminding him of all that had happened since his escape from NIMH. He remembered the extra pain he had gone through, the extra changes that had forced themselves into his DNA, recognizing another reason why Jenner had acted the way he did. He had seen the darkness that rode in Justin's heart, growing and festering despite his attempts to hide it; and it was also another reason why Jenner had wanted him dead.

It hadn't taken long for him to find out about his foe's powers, even though he fought so hard to keep them hidden. The duel at the farm could have ended differently, indeed it could have been avoided, but Justin hadn't been willing to reveal himself, and he still wasn't. His hands shook when he thought of it, the tremors slowly spreading throughout his body until his entire form fairly rocked with fear. The humans had turned him into a monster, but now they were going to pay. All he needed was the right opportunity.

He suddenly screamed, gripping his temples, staggering. He fell to his knees, gritting his teeth, tears streaming from his tightly closed eyes. His claws tore through the soil before him, his breath coming in harsh gasps as the pain finally faded. He opened his eyes, gazing down at his hands, seeing the blood that had so often covered them. His heart became filled with a twisted glee, a wicked grin growing on his lips as his paws became illuminated with the dark light of his eyes…

Cynthia snapped awake. She'd had trouble sleeping since learning of the death of her father. Her dreams constantly showed what would happen if Julian won this war, if they allowed him to complete his mission. She slid from the bed, gazing out the window to see that the sun colored the sky. The child felt she would burst unless she told someone. The door didn't make a sound when she opened it, but something sure was. She followed the sound, seeing Justin's wide open door, seeing the river of color flowing from the hidden chamber. She took a step in, only to feel her limbs freeze. Justin stood before her, but it also wasn't him.

His clothes were tattered, hanging in rags about his powerful body, teeth bared, gleaming sharply in the sun, paws spread with blade-like claws that threw ice down her spine. But the worst came when she peeked at his eyes. It was as though the Stone's light had flowed to them, leaving the jewel hanging black and useless around his neck. His chest quickly rose and fell with panting breath. Cynthia couldn't help the cry that flew from her lips, the frightened tears that flooded her cheeks; she turned, running for her life. In a few seconds she heard his steps follow her.

"Cynthia?" he called. His voice was still smooth as ever, tinged with worry. She moved further into her hiding place, but nevertheless felt his strong hands wrap around her.

"No!" she cried. She fought to get away, knowing it was futile. "No, get away from me!"

"Cynthia," he held her closer, her tiny nails digging into his flesh, her small fists useless against him. "Cynthia, please…" he lifted her chin. She saw that his eyes were no longer filled with that terrifying glow, but it did nothing to lessen her fear.

"You big meanie!" she yelled. "Let go of me!" she fought until the last of her energy faded away, then she had no choice but to rest against him. She soon felt his lips on the top of her head.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quietly. He rose from his crouch, sitting on the bed she'd hidden beneath. She noticed that the Stone was once again bright red. But there was no life in the jewel. She sniffled, gazing at him, feeling her quaking form finally calm. He smiled, wiping the tears that dripped from her eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you," he repeated. The love in his eyes added truth to his words. "But I want you to promise me something," she stared, saying nothing. "If you _ever _see me like that again, I want you to scream as loud as you can." she nodded, then slid from his arms. She left quickly, without looking back. Justin sighed, getting up to change before meeting Elizabeth.

Julian barely glanced at his troops, feeling apprehensive for the first time in his life. These creatures were not the docile peace-lovers he was expecting, or had been trained to handle. These were creatures who wanted freedom, and would pay through the nose to get it. He had already lost more than half his warriors, and the others couldn't be trained quickly enough to fill the gaps. He figured that soon he would have no choice but to surrender, yet also knew that Remington would not accept such an outcome.

"I gave you your powers for one reason," the dark voice hissed so often in his mind. "To abolish anything I perceive as a threat to our mission."

"I'm doing my best," he growled in response. The others didn't ask, knowing what was going on. The evil man was hoping to take control of his tiny slave, but Julian was able to fight him off, until his emotions got the better of him.

_I'm not going to let him control me, _he thought. Tomorrow night he planned to tell Justin what was really going on, that they didn't need to fight each other, but the man who controlled their every action. He knew that then, and only then, they would be able to live in peace, fulfilling their dreams. _Oh, Teresa. _He couldn't keep his mind off the Brisby girl. He'd thought it was Elizabeth who had captured his heart, when really it had been her daughter's face that appeared in his dreams. He had just been seeing Natasha in her old life.

He watched, helpless as his men lost their lives, unable to do anything to stop it. The harsh laugh of Remington pounded through his thoughts, his mind reeling as he tried to find a way out of this.

"You'll never escape," the words echoed coldly in his skull, dropping a lead weight in his heart. He shook his head, knowing the man's smooth tongue was a factory for lies, the barbed words coming from his lips and murdering all who stood in their path. He would escape, the very fate of the world depended upon it, but he knew there was a high chance he wouldn't survive.

_That's a risk I'm willing to take, _he thought, and pulled his troops out for the night.


	13. The Mission

The Mission

She gasped, collapsing as the child was at last pulled from her body. The sound of soft crying filled the room as the baby took its first breath. Ashton smiled, wiping the fluid from the dark fur, seeing an equal mix of both parents, but he knew something was amiss when the child opened its eyes. Instead of the deep brown or gentle blue he'd expected, the infant's eyes were a pale, rheumy grey, with a thin film coating the pupils, whites and orbs. He wrapped the baby in a soft white sheet, quietly sharing the gender as he passed her the bundle. "You've had a boy, but…"

"What; is something wrong?" the couple gazed at their new-born son, seeing the strange lack of color in his eyes. It didn't take them long to figure out what it was. Jean Andrews had been born blind. That in itself was typical for normal rats, but had never before been seen in their community, yet Ashton couldn't place how it had happened. It couldn't have been mixed species, or normal genes mixing with NIMH-altered ones; both cases had happened before, and neither had resulted in any deficiencies, be they mental or otherwise. And besides, Natasha had already been one of their kind long before she'd gotten pregnant. He also couldn't believe that the baby had developed so quickly. It had taken little more than four weeks, while the average time among them was at least six or more. He suspected that Jean was special in more ways than one.

"Is it done yet?" Timothy peeked through the curtain, hearing a faint crying. A tiny hand pulled itself from the white bundle his mother held. It was covered in dark brown fur. He looked behind him, nodding. Cynthia, Martin, and Teresa soon appeared beside them. Justin motioned them forward so they could see their new brother.

"What's wrong with his eyes?" asked Timothy. He had long since recovered from his plight, now able to function normally. The war with Julian still hadn't ended, but he figured he had them on the run. However, he was dead wrong. Julian had held them under siege for weeks, thinking that he had captured their food source. They also had control of the lake, but that meant nothing to Justin's colony, neither did the stolen wheat.

_Let them stuff themselves, _he thought. _Let him believe that he has us beaten. _A smile crossed his lips, falling when he heard the cry of his son. He shook his head, gazing at the child, realizing that he would never get to see the beauty of their home, or the death that surrounded his birth.

"What's wrong with his eyes?" Cynthia tugged on his cape, trying to get his attention.

"That's normal for newborns," Ashton said quickly. "He'll be able to see in just a few weeks."

"Oh," she turned back to her brother, who was gazing about with unseeing eyes. He reached up, grasping his father's paw, ripping away the cloth that covered it. The children gasped at the sight of his wound. His hand was covered in horrid scars, blazing red beneath his fur, spots of blood still seeping from the deepest cuts. It had nearly been severed by a shrapnel bomb. He quickly pulled the paw behind him, under his cape. The other he used to stroke his son's head. Elizabeth was nowhere near death, and from the looks of it, neither was Jean. They had decided on the name a few days before, realizing that they really didn't know whether they would have a boy or a girl, knowing the name worked for both genders. None of them noticed Ashton had left until he came rushing back through the curtain.

"Trouble at the gate," he said quickly. Justin nodded, the children moving away as he strode toward the doctor. He looked back once, then disappeared.

A large group stood at the gate, the triplets careful to remain at the back. There seemed to be some commotion just outside. He was soon given a clear view of what was happening. Julian was being thrown to the ground, the tip of a spear held to the back of his neck. Brutus stood with his foot on the back of the living shadow. He struggled, stopping only when Justin's feet stopped at his nose. He looked up best he could, seeing fury in the rat's eyes.

"Why have you come here?" he growled.

Julian squirmed, to no avail. "Let me up…and I'll tell you." A moment later he felt the metal being pulled from his skin; he could finally breathe. "I didn't come here to fight," he said, getting up. He brushed the dirt from his tunic. "I came here to warn you."

"Warn us of what?" sneered Ashton. "What will happen if we refuse to surrender?"

Cruel, scattered laughs came from the crowd, only to be silenced by Justin's piercing glare. He then turned back to the black creature before him.

"Why should we listen to you?" he said coldly.

"Because…he's not your enemy." They turned, seeing Teresa emerge from the back of the crowd. She came closer, putting her hand in Julian's. "It's NIMH, and more specifically it's Remington. He's the one controlling all of this." she turned to Justin, her eyes cold. "I've already informed you of his true intentions, and yet you continue in this pointless fighting. We shouldn't be killing each other; instead you should listen to what he has to say, then we can come up with a way to get out of this. We could live in peace if only you listen."

Julian held her close, glaring hotly at the others surrounding them. Most of the crowd now gazed outside, seeing their fields stained with blood, thinking of the lives that had been wasted because of their rashness, their blindness as to who their true foe was.

"She's right," Timothy came to stand by his sister. Martin and Cynthia soon followed him. "We need to stop this. Remington's the one who wants us to fight, and we need to defy him." his siblings nodded.

"He plans to destroy the planet," said Thomas. He and his brothers had emerged from the cliffs just in time to hear the debate. "He's going to release his creatures across the globe, and he knows that we are the only ones who can stop him."

Austin lifted a hand, curling a fist. "I'm through letting the humans control me," he shouted. "I say we take the fight right to their doorstep, give them a taste of their own medicine!"

The group around Julian continued to grow, as the others began to see the truth in the words. In a few minutes Justin was the only one who remained. He leveled his eyes at his foe, emotions conflicting within him. He could feel the energy flooding the chamber, the heavy defiance they were ready to bury him with if he refused. A second later he shook his head, coming to a decision. He went slowly to Julian. He held out a hand. The black rat stepped forward, so he stood before the crowd.

"Alright," he said. His voice rose as he spoke, until it fairly echoed around them. "We're going to take the fight right to Remington; we're going to show him that we won't give in. We are not going to remain in hiding any longer. We are living beings, and we deserve freedom. I pledge to make him regret ever stepping foot inside NIMH, and that he has much to fear. Remington plans to destroy this valley, but I'm going to make sure he knows whose land this really is -" the rest of his words were lost as they broke into thunderous cheering. Julian pulled Teresa close, twirling her in his arms, hearing laughter bubble from her lips. He then gripped Justin's hand, shaking it firmly.

"It's time to show him just how much he has to fear."

The shadow laughed coldly, having heard every word. Defeating his master was going to cost more than they ever could have dreamed, and he doubted they could handle such a sacrifice. He turned from his view, gazing toward the distant mountains, knowing just how close the humans were. He lifted himself, slipping silently from his post, feeling a soft pounding as a dark voice slowly began to echo in his mind.

"715, report!"

"Sir," he replied. The tiny creature dashed toward the farm, knowing he would be there in minutes. "32 appears to have broken free of your control; he's banded together with the other escapees. They plan to storm-"

A sharp sound, then the black creature tumbled mid-stride. A single shaft quivered in his back, blood curling around it. A wicked chuckle sounded from Remington, and his drone's dead eyes glowed an evil hue. Insane laughter echoed through the night as he continued the trek to base.

Elizabeth still lay in the infirmary, holding Jean close. The tiny creature had just finished nursing, lulled to sleep by her silvery voice. She smiled, recalling how long it had been since she'd last held an infant. She wondered how many more chances life would give her. The swish of fabric caught her attention. She looked up to find her fiancé, a fresh bandage coating his hand.

"What was it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing." He came closer, gazing at their tiny son. "How have you two been?"

She smiled. "Bored out of our minds. You know, this is actually the longest I've gone without moving."

He laughed, running a claw through her hair. "You'll be able to come home in a few days."

"I hope so." She lay Jean in the small bed next to hers, laying her hands in her lap. Justin wrapped an arm around her, feeling the warmth as his lips touched her cheek. He didn't know what he was going to do when he left for NIMH. He just hoped he'd be back to be with her.

"I have to leave," the words were stones in his heart. They grew heavier with each sound that left his lips, until he felt as though he would collapse from their weight. "I promise I'll be back," he finished quietly.

"Let me come with you," she said suddenly.

"No!" his grip tightened on her tender paw. "I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you."

She sat up, running a claw down his arm. His fur was soft, giving no sign of the raw muscle that lay hidden beneath it. She gazed deeply into his eyes, seeing their depths flooded with worry, knowing how much he cared for her. Her heart ached as she recalled just how many times his had been broken. "Fine, I'll stay," she said. "But I expect you back."

He smiled, pulling her close. "I promise I'll be back as soon as this mission allows," he said in her ear. She let her head fall to his shoulder as sleep began to overtake her.

"Justin, I-" her words were cut off by his kiss. She felt her body melt in his arms as it deepened, her claws digging into the cloth that covered his chest, wishing she wasn't stuck in a hospital bed; her breath came in quiet gasps when he pulled away. They stared at one another for a long minute, willing themselves to calm as love raced through their veins. "When do you leave?" she asked.

"We'll be gone tomorrow morning," he said.

"We?"

He nodded. "Julian and the triplets will be accompanying me. Ashton volunteered, but I told him he's needed here, to keep people calm."

"How long will this take?" she was unsure how many days she could go without him.

"At least two weeks," he spoke softly. "But it may take up to a month or more."

The last question she didn't want to ask, but the words fell from her throat. "Why must you leave?"

"You'd be better off not knowing," he said. A thread of anger trickled into his voice. He turned away before she could speak again. When at last he turned back, his eyes were steel. "But I will say it has to do with settling an old score." he left, cape fluttering behind him. Elizabeth watched until he was out of sight, then lay back among her soft sheets. Her eyes drifted from the cold stone ceiling to a window, where darkness had long been present, then to her son, who still slept peacefully. She felt exhausted, but sleep refused to coat her vision. She lay awake most of the night, only to fall asleep at the sound of large, fluttering wings.


	14. New Understanding

New Understanding

The ground felt uneven when they finally dismounted. The five had ridden to NIMH on the back of a young hawk, whom they had healed when he'd broken his wing by a fall from his nest. The same day his mother abandoned him. He'd lived close to the cliffs ever since. Justin felt fury bubble in his stomach, unwanted memories crowding his mind as he gazed upon the glass and steel cube that had been his prison not so long ago. He was sure the others felt the same way. Flint ruffled his feathers, feeling frightened as his eyes traveled up the side.

"You...lived here?" he asked quietly.

"You could say that," said Julian. The pounding in his head had grown stronger the closer they became. He didn't know how much longer he could keep control. He turned to his sons, seeing the hatred and shock in their eyes. He'd had no choice but to kill her, though he didn't think he'd ever tell them. He sensed his youngest shiver, but said nothing.

"You know where to find me," Flint said quickly. He often came to the city, hunting the tiny fish that darted through lakes scattered about. He flew off, glad to get away. Justin lowered his eyes to a large shrub, one that concealed the way they had used to reach the ground after their escape. The thick branches scrawled up the side, spreading onto the roof, dark leaves still baring the scars of small claws. There was no wind, yet he could have sworn he saw the foliage shift, as though something hid beneath them. He shook his head, thinking it was just a combination of low light and his own exhaustion; it had taken them nearly the entire day to reach the city.

"Well, what now?" asked Greg. He was scared, but also growing bored of standing in the dying grass.

Austin moved forward, gazing at the climbing ivy. He could picture his dad clinging to its branches as he scurried toward freedom. "We climb, I guess." he started up, only to be thrust back to the ground.

"What the heck?" he rubbed his sore tail, slowly rising back to his feet.

"What was that all about?" said Thomas. He caught a flash of shadow blur past the wall, vanishing at a point further on. "What's that?" he asked, pointing. He brought their attention to what appeared to be a tiny door, just the size for a rat. Its surface had been worn smooth by the constant passage of paws. "I guess this is how we get in," he said quietly, shoving it open. It creaked into a narrow hall, faintly lit by small gas orbs, the air thickly tainted by the scents of torture and blood. It nearly made them sick to their stomachs. Justin went first, stepping cautiously into the tunnel, feeling bile well in his throat. He fought to keep it down as he moved forward, making out feeble screams and poorer shadows, sensing the evil that flooded these walls. He drew a blade as a small form appeared ahead, seeming to beckon them forward.

"Come on, this way," the voice was low, just on the verge of hearing. He felt he should recognize it, but couldn't place where he had heard it. Whoever it was, they waited, silently urging the group to come closer. "I can take you to him." The shadow grew bigger as they approached, until they were able to see who it was. It was a young rat girl, hardly bigger than a newborn. Still, she had smooth brown fur and the most lovely green eyes. Austin stepped forward, as though he knew her. His jaw nearly went slack as he took in her small form.

"A-Ashley?" he managed to whisper. He couldn't believe it; after all this time believing she was dead…

Ashley lifted her hands, barely able to contain her joy as he swept her into his arms. "Mommy's here too," she said quietly. "We've been waiting for you, daddy."

The others looked on, shocked, yet knowing that now was not a time for questioning. There would be plenty of time to catch up once they got back in the valley. Ashley explained all that had happened since she and her mother, along with several others, had been recaptured after being separated from the group, telling of the things she had seen since Remington had taken over. She hadn't been born when Schultz was killed, but the older members had taken their time passing down the tales of NIMH, telling of what they'd endured, along with more sinister details.

"He says he's close to finishing his plan," she said. "And that by week's end the entire world will be under his control." She shivered, burying her face in his shirt. "We've barely been able to survive," she finished.

The rest just looked at her, silence ruling until it was shattered by a harsh cry. It was the beginning of the Transformation. Julian knew very well what it meant, cringing at the thought.

"Come on," he ordered. "We haven't much time."

Their pace quickened as they grew nearer to the sounds, until they were fairly running. However, they stopped short once they saw where it came from. A dark man with features contorted in madness stood above a large cage, gazing down upon his prisoners. He laughed as their screams increased in pitch, brought on by the black hand he held over them. The sight was no better than hell to the five creatures. Ashley pulled on her father's hand, bringing them deeper into the tunnels. The child led them to a vast chamber, seemingly carved from solid earth. "This is where we live," she said, leading them to a small hut. She was about to enter when the wooden store swung outwards. A pretty young rat stood at the threshold, obviously her mother. She seemed worried.

"Ashley, where have you been?" she spoke in a strange dialect.

"Sorry, mommy," Ashley replied. To the others it sounded like Latin or Greek. Only one other seemed to understand; Austin.

"Helena?" he asked. The woman looked up, eyes growing in shock.

"Austin?" tears came to her eyes as he came close. She reached up, putting a hand on his cheek. "Is that you?" he didn't get a chance to reply, as yet another horrid sound tore through the filthy air. It sounded a mix between a laugh and a scream.

"This had been going on for months," she told them. She brought them inside, shutting out the dust and rancid smells. Her voice was heavy as she fell against him. Austin translated this for his comrades. "I'm sick of what they do."

"But, what's happened?" Justin said slowly. NIMH was nothing like it had been during his imprisonment. "Why has it changed so much?" her response was far from what he'd expected. Her sweet voice was hard as she switched to English.

"Nigel's killed almost all the scientists," she began. "And he's erased the minds of those few who remain. Every night new creatures come, and they never stop screaming, not until...the Transformation." she paused, shivering. "We were lucky," she continued. "Julian helped us to escape, but we were recaptured; we've lived here ever since."

"How has he gotten away with the murders?" said Greg.

"He's somehow made everyone completely forget who he's killed, as though they never existed."

_Now why does that sound familiar? _Justin shook his head, feeling the child tug on his shirt.

"You are going to stop him, aren't you?" she asked. Her bright eyes shone with hope, he smiled.

"Of course we are," he whispered to her. "But it may take some time."

Thomas shivered. "Why is he doing this?" he asked.

Austin rolled his eyes. "He wants to take over the world." He said simply.

Thomas shook his head, saying blatantly, "The guy's a nut job!"

The following mirth was short-lived. Between them, Ashley and Helena were able to explain the building's layout, and where they were most likely to find Nigel. Outside the sun was setting, and it was growing near the final night, but they couldn't say for sure just when that would be. If she caught sight of the gold peeking out from beneath Justin's shirt, she spoke nothing of it, knowing they were going to need all the magic they could get. In a few minutes they were back in the dimly lit tunnels.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Greg hissed. Justin could only shrug in reply. His pace quickened when he heard Nigel's crazed laugh, but the youth never got the chance to catch up.

He felt a strong hand pull on his waist, bringing him into the shadows, seeing a pair of dark eyes that glittered with worry. It was Julian. "Son, why do you hate me?"

Greg could see his brothers standing behind the dark rat, both looked bewildered. "You killed our mother," he hissed. His cold tone was a blade to Julian's heart. He sighed heavily, fighting tears.

"Yes, I did kill your mother," he said. He turned so all three would hear. "But I did so for one reason, to prevent her from taking your lives."

Their eyes went wide as he explained what really happened that night.

_Flashback_

Alistar hated being a mother. She felt her three infants had stolen her beauty, and were slowly taking Julian's heart from her grasp. She had manipulated him, twisted his soul to turn him cold hearted, but knew that parenthood was undoing her work. Every night he spent more time with the children, and the rat chosen to nurse them, since their mother refused. She knew that his power would soon be pulled from her grasp, that she would no longer be able to control him. She figured there was only one thing to do.

The children were asleep, wrapped in a single ball of fur. Julian had also fallen asleep, his arms slid protectively around Brianna. Her heart burned, blood boiling as she pulled out a long blade, its edge glittering evilly in the dim light of their dying fire. Hatred filled her eyes as she drove the tip through the heart of her rival, causing her husband to stir as liquid coated his hands. He awoke just in time to see her, knife poised over the eldest of the triplets.

"Alistar," he growled. She turned, gasping in shock.

"Julian," she stammered. The blade fell just short of the infants. "I-I was just…"

"What have you done?" his deep voice shook the land, a dark growl rising in his throat. It only grew worse when he saw Brianna's blood on his hands.

"I had to, Julian," she snapped defiantly, unaware that their children were awake. They didn't cry, just watched silently. "She was taking you away from me," she motioned toward Bria, then the triplets. "And I wasn't about to let them change you. I've spent too long turning you into the perfect killer, and nothing is going to…" her voice cut off when his hands gripped her throat. She'd forgotten how frightened she was of his strength, especially when his temper was flaming.

"You heartless bitch." His black eyes gazed angrily into hers, fingers tightening as a sharp snap filled the air. Moments later he dropped her, falling to his knees as he finally broke down. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

_End flashback_

They were shocked when he finished; so that's how it had happened? He explained that he'd only acted heartless afterward so that he would never feel the pain of loss again. But meeting Natasha and later Teresa had rekindled his soul, melting the ice that had coated his heart, allowing him to live again. Greg was the first to come forward, embracing his father when the words had sunk in. Thomas and Austin soon followed.

"I'm sorry for how I've treated you," their father whispered.

"It doesn't matter," said Thomas. "You did what you needed to protect us. We just jumped to conclusions."

Julian felt a smile curl his lips. He suddenly wished they were children again, and that Brianna had been the one to birth them.

"Come on," said Austin. He gripped his dad's shoulder. "We've got a demon to stop."

The others nodded, hurrying to catch up with Justin.


	15. The Last Fall

The Last Fall

Nigel laughed, seeing the pain that spread through his victims. He reveled in their tortured screams, longed to hear their tiny claws scraping the glass as the waves pounded their brains into virtual nothingness. Very few survived such an operation, but the few who did were stronger than the rest, and that was just what he needed. In a few minutes he turned, glancing toward the clock. It glowed in the black light that filled the chamber.

"Excellent," he hissed. It was nearly time. Just a short interval left until he was able to release his plague upon the globe, before he was able to remake this twisted globe in his own image. _And this time there is no one left to stop me!_

He laughed aloud, only to have it come to a screeching halt at the sound of a small, furious voice. He turned, seeing a tiny creature standing firmly before a space at the wall, what appeared to be a sword grasped in his tiny paws. Nigel raised a brow, wondering what this was, when he recalled the earlier stages of his little game. "Well, if it isn't number nine," he hissed. He bent down, grasping the rat by his tail, nearly causing him to lose grip of his small weapon. "Have you come to defeat me?" he spoke in cruel jest.

Justin let out a laugh of his own, gazing angrily into the human's dark eyes. He didn't bother speaking, knowing his words would be little more than squeaks to his ears. Instead he let his blade do the talking. In a flash it was buried up to the hilt in Nigel's left eye, blood pouring from the wound as the soft white orb was torn from its socket. Justin fell to the floor amidst a red rain, landing in a roll, jumping deftly to his feet. No sooner had his risen that a sharp pain crippled his form. He felt his body crash into the wall, the crimson blade nearly thrown from his grasp. He already knew that the toxins would have no effect, as Remington had been poisoned before.

He writhed in pain no more than an instant, feeling a warmth explode suddenly around him. The chamber glowed red, the light filling his body as he rose in the air, the Stone floating before him. In it he could see his love's face, flashing from view as the voice of Nicodemus filled his mind, "Courage of the heart is very rare; the Stone has a power when it's there."

Every word brought on more of this frightening change; yet he felt nothing as his body took on a new form. Nigel could only wait, shielding his one remaining eye from the blinding, pulsating brilliance. A pounding filled his head, sounding like a beating heart, a harsh cry flooding his lips when he was at last able to gaze upon his foe.

The rat was gone, and in his place was a fearsome young man, gazing at him with cold, bitter black eyes. He backed away, trying to escape before the other human could get to his feet. He barely had time to move before feeling a blade on his throat. "You don't recognize me?" a darkly suave voice hissed in his ear. He fought to get away, only to find that the man was too strong. He turned his head as best he could, seeing features that sent chills down his spine. It was number nine, yet it also was not.

"You…" he managed to whisper. Justin smiled an evil expression.

"Happy to see me, are you, my creator?" the words dripped with sarcasm. Nigel didn't reply, barely able to breathe as thoughts of the past rushed through his mind. Every murder, every crime he'd committed to bring himself to the top, every detail of his life flashing in his eyes as the blade pressed closer to his skin. Just a second he gazed at his nails, which were longer, sharper than was normal, and he dug his hand into Justin's side.

The heat of pain burned through his veins, his mind blurred just long enough for Remington to break free. He turned on his foe, growling wildly, eyes blazing. He continued slashing at the man, who was forced to back away, feeling his back hit the wall. A red trail stained the floor in his wake, the sight of it making him weak as he realized how much he had lost, wanting only to give up the fight. Then he remembered Natasha, their newborn son, the colony he'd be leaving open to attack if he perished. In moments he saw her face before him, tears flooding her eyes as Julian and the others informed her of his death. She wouldn't go through that again, not if he could help it. His eyes began to glow a darkish hue, mind going blank as he pushed back the older man, knowing there was too much at stake for him to quit now. He forgot his wound as the fight continued, unable to control himself as Remington began moaning in terror. He couldn't believe how well it had worked.

The injections were only supposed to increase the life span of his creatures, increasing their intelligence so they could understand orders and execute them. It wasn't supposed to lead to this. He still fought to break free, tasting the copper of his own blood, still seeing his life flash before his eyes; the moonless night of his birth, the black heart that had molded his own, the endless lies that had filled his skull and flooded his lips. The last thing he ever saw was Justin's furious eyes gazing into his own, giving him a glimpse into what his life had become; the ruler of his own fictional hell. He fell seconds later, his body having been torn to shreds.

Justin collapsed, no longer able to stand. He didn't know how much blood he had lost, but knew that he had just murdered a monster. He gazed down at his hands, seeing them covered with a strange black substance, feeling the strength slowly drain from his limbs. He fell to the floor, the red light fading from his form. When at last it was gone, Julian and his sons gazed out into the chamber. They gasped in unison, taking in the horrid scene.

Blood covered the floor, concentrated over a black mass of cloth in the center. Justin was lying nearby, shrinking back into his natural form. Even from the wall, they could see the wounds that covered his body, the bare patches where fur had been torn out. Ashley, who had followed her father, broke into silent tears, running back to her home in the dirt chamber. She somehow knew she would never see the city again. Her footsteps soon faded, unheard by her father, who could only stare at his fallen comrade. He took a step forward, breathing heavily.

Natasha was nursing Jean when a large shadow passed over her. She looked up, seeing a black form on the back of a young hawk. Somehow, she knew instantly who it was, and soon began running back towards the cliffs. A large crowd had already gathered when she reached them.

She nearly screamed when she saw him, lying still and pale upon the cold ground, nearly losing her grip on their child. Her heart was pounding in fear, only growing worse as he was carried into the infirmary. Only then was she able to swallow the lump in her throat.

"W-What happened?"

They quickly informed her of his state, how much blood he had lost in the fight with Remington, how there was a good chance he wouldn't live much longer. Ashton checked his pulse. It was slow, and very, very weak.

"He won't live another week," he said gravely, once in the infirmary. "Unless someone gives him blood."

"I'll do it," Natasha said quickly. Ashton shook his head.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," he explained. "Because of what you once were; besides," he added, turning away. "He needs blood from those who had the same injections that he did." Julian, Thomas, and Austin stepped forward. Greg was still at NIMH, getting the others ready to come to the valley.

"We'll do it," said Thomas. "It's the least we could do, after all this."

Ashton could only nod as he pulled the three rats aside. "It has to be done soon as possible," he whispered to them. "It may already be too late."

Elizabeth couldn't watch the procedure. She kept her eyes closed the entire time, opening them only after she heard a door slam shut. There was a thin tube running from his arm to a small plastic bag. Both the tube and the bag were filled with blood. Already his breath was more even, the color returning to his ashen face. She didn't know how long had passed before he groaned, slowly opening dark glazed eyes. She gasped.

"You're...alive?" she whispered. It was all she could manage. He smiled, slowly gripping her hand.

"Don't worry," he said weakly. "It's going to take a lot more than black magic to kill me." though he held only a small part of his normal strength, he somehow managed to pull her on top of him, kissing her softly. "You've no idea how much I've missed you," he whispered.

She sighed. "No more than I have missed you," she hugged him as best she could. He pushed himself up, resting his back against the cold stone wall.

"I love you," he breathed in her ear.

"And I love you," she gazed in his eyes, knowing it would never fade.


	16. Mystery

**Book Two: Tainted Freedom**

Mystery

He was cursed. He had to be. Justin Andrews found it impossible to remain inside after dark, and trying to sleep was useless once the sun rose. It didn't affect the children, or his love, Elizabeth, and he had no idea when it had started. NIMH was gone, shut down after the government finally got wind of the weird things Remington had been up to, and though they hadn't been able to lift the spell Nigel had cast, the man had still been sentenced to death for murder; apparently he had killed before, and more than once. It was the first time in many days he could sleep peacefully, at least until now.

No one knew what had happened, or why, just that it had come on suddenly and without warning, but he had the distinct feeling this had happened before, but couldn't place when. The problem was that he couldn't remain in the halls after sunset.

He tried, Lord knows he did, but every day, an hour before sundown, something forced him to drop what he was doing, no matter what it was, and head out into the chilly evening. Only when he knew he was alone was he finally able to sleep. But even then his mind remained in turmoil, making it impossible for him to remain still very long. Yet he was never tired when he returned home at sunup. He knew how worried she was, and also how much she wanted him beside her in the evening hours.

"You're never around at night," she told him. She held their son softly to her chest, playing with his fingers as the young boy nodded off. There was one good thing to happen recently. Right after his father came home, Jean had seen the sun for the first time in his life. His eyes were blue.

"I know," he said quietly. His next words came as a sigh. "But it's nothing I can help."

She lifted a brow, setting their child in his tiny bed. She then went over, sliding in his lap. Her arms wrapped loosely around his neck. His hands slowly came up to caress her. "What exactly happened that night?"

He shook his head. "I really don't know," he said softly. He did, but didn't want to tell her. He didn't want her to know what NIMH and the Stone had made him do. She knew what she needed to, and that was more than enough. Still, he hated keeping secrets from her. "I'll tell you eventually," he whispered.

She nodded. "I hope so." He didn't miss the glint in her eye.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

She giggled, running a claw down his chest. "I was just thinking," she hissed seductively. "Jean's asleep, meaning we have an hour to ourselves."

"The children will be home soon," he said. Martin and Teresa had long since moved out, while Timothy and Cynthia still lived with Justin and their mother.

"So?" she made a sleeve fall from her shoulder. "We'll be done long before then."

He laughed, finally giving in.

He awoke two hours later. A faint shuffling told him the younger children were home. Natasha still slept peacefully in his arms, her breath even for the first time in weeks. Jean was awake however, gazing about for the first time in his life. Justin pulled himself from his love, going to stand over his son. He lifted his hands at the sight of his father's smiling face, taking hold of his large paw. Justin laughed, bringing the boy into his arms. Jean was so small, covered in soft brown fur. He looked like his father, aside from his eyes, his gaze holding the clear innocence of youth. Justin laughed, gazing out the window as his child squirmed in his arms. He seemed drawn to the Stone, which lay atop his father's desk. Its sweet glow grew brighter the closer they became.

Jean reached down toward the jewel, which began floating as his paws drew near. The light in the gem was a living heart, gently pulsing as though connected to the child. Justin lifted a brow, backing away, only to have the Stone follow them. It was a strange, wonderful thing to see as the Stone gently set itself around his neck, the red surface just inches from his son's face.

"St…" he murmured, reaching towards it. His tiny claws barely touched the surface, causing the glow to brighten further. The pulsing grew faster. His curious eyes glazed over as the gem seemed to melt, slowly beginning to merge with his fur. He didn't cry, indeed he barely breathed as it happened, his father shocked into silence at what he witnessed. In a few moments the ruby was gone, with just a hollow gold shell remaining. A soft glow seemed to surround his infant son, slowly fading as a faintly red mark, like a mask, appeared around his eyes, making their blue shade even more prominent. "Stone," he murmured, then fell into a deep sleep.

Justin couldn't believe what he had just seen. Had the Stone really just fallen into his son's body? He quickly thought of telling someone, then thought against it, knowing what the outcome would be. He lay the gold backing in a hidden spot, settling his son back in his tiny bed. He looked out the window, watching the sun as it began to graze the horizon, feeling that urge surge through his blood. Yet he somehow knew this night would be different, as though a great chain of events was slowly beginning to set itself in motion. He slipped out a stone door, vanishing into the shadows of coming night.

Timothy watched him leave, wondering what the urgency was. This had been going on for weeks, he'd noticed, ever since Justin and the others had returned from NIMH. He remembered what Austin had told him about the fight, how Justin seemed to have disappeared just before, only to come back right after. He'd given it quite a bit of thought, realizing that this hadn't begun until after the blood transfusion, about three days after Justin had returned from the infirmary.

_But what's causing it? _He asked himself. He'd questioned the others more than once about it, only to become more confused by the few, vague details they were able to provide. Why in the world was Justin acting so strangely and why wasn't anyone else noticing? _Come to think of it, _he realized. _No one else seems to even be acting this way. _The young mouse turned back to his books, explaining a problem to his sister, Cynthia. But his mind refused to leave the problem his future step-father faced. Would his situation end up affecting the rest of them as well? He shook his head, deciding that now wasn't the time to think about it.

Justin collapsed on the ground, heart pounding in his chest. His lungs burned, but he hadn't been able to stop until now. He noticed that every night his cries grew louder, and he didn't want them any more suspicious than they already were, least they come search for him. He gazed down at the casing, wondering for the first time if it would work without the Stone. Minutes later he had his answer.

The gold chain flew off from the convulsions, his tortured voice tearing through the darkening forest in shaking waves, blood dripping from his eyes instead of tears. His tail shrank into his back, shoving up the length of his spine, which continued to grow as he turned and twisted in the dust, giving him new form. His fur disappeared, yet his skin kept its dark shade. He felt the pull of each change as it happened, no more used to it now than he had been the first time it had happened, but he was relieved that it ended quickly. He sat up, panting, gazing down at his hands. His claws were gone, but his skin was the medium tan his fur had been, and he reached up to feel his face.

The scar was still there, but it was slimmer than it had been the night before; he was just glad it didn't show in fur. Slowly, he rose to his feet, thankful he was used to walking upright. He then hurried into the night, once more leaving his real life behind.


	17. Night Life

Night Life

His gaze slipped to the stream, watching the moonlight shift on its jumping surface, seeing the beams reflect on the smooth white stones beneath. The night was at peace, yet he was in turmoil as he thought of Elizabeth, his children, the family he had promised to become a father to, knowing that his curse was close to ending it all. But just what was his curse? Even now he didn't fully understand it, but knew that he didn't have long before it probably became irreversible. His feet brought him to the bank, where he was once again forced to look upon his scarred face, the carved features that made him a human being.

The only flaw was that scar, rising from the base of his chin, slashing through his eyebrow before stopping at the line of his dark, curly hair. His eyes were near black, the laughter in them greatly diminished, replaced with a piercing steel edge. His clothes had changed as well, becoming a T-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, though his feet remained bare. Right now the shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to impressive muscle that arrowed down to his belt, the scar on his arm visible through a tear in the sleeve. He wondered how long he could live like this without going crazy, or without making his people worry for him. Especially her. What would she do if she caught him like this? _Most likely run, _he thought miserably. He turned away, not wanting to see himself, pulling on a pair of tough leather boots he'd found at the rim of the valley, knowing he couldn't remain in its confines for long. _But I guess I'll have to cross that bridge when I get to it._

His heart was pounding when he arrived, but he fought to keep his breath quiet. He had just reached the edge of the city, gazing about in the growing darkness, yet keeping hidden. His senses were as keen as they had been in fur, and he turned just in time to avoid lead in his neck.

"Gimme your money," the thief was a kid, dressed in solid black with a white shirt, his skin dark and scattered over with scars. His mouth was twisted in a sneer. "I mean it, pal," he continued. "Give me your cash, or I'll..."

"You'll what?" Justin replied, steel in his voice. His hard eyes dropped coldly over the kid, his nose picking up the scent of marijuana. They then flashed across the small gun the boy held in his grasp. He could somehow tell that it wasn't even loaded. "You're on me with an empty clip," he said quietly, then unveiled a long knife. "What damage do you think you could cause?" he smiled, flipping the blade so it fell at the kid's head. The punk backed away, smirk wiped from his face by fear, then hurried back into the night. Justin sighed, shaking his head. He had read enough of human life to know which ones to avoid, and where to go if he ever required assistance. Shoving the knife back in its case, he ventured further into the city, gazing at all that had ceased to be wonder to him. Humans used cars more than their legs, and those few who went on foot were considered crazy. He wondered why.

_Like I'll ever know, _he thought, grateful he wasn't really one of them. He looked up, realizing that he had come, unconsciously to his place of residence: a small store that had recently been abandoned, with a tiny apartment on the floor above it. He smiled, glad to at least be on familiar ground. He ventured in the back door, as was normal, then flicked on the lights. The white-washed interior was perfectly clean, shelves stocked with items ranging from cookware to frozen foods. There was a group of young girls lingering outside the front door.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he said, smiling. The girls all blushed and giggled. They seemed no more than teenagers, using the task of shopping as an excuse to see him. He quietly laughed at the thought, going to take care of some chores around the store.

"He is _so_ cute," Ashley hissed to Heather. Her twin nodded, gazing with glittering eyes at the handsome man in their midst. They were red-headed sixteen year olds.

"How old do you think he is?" asked Sasha, who was fifteen. Vera, the oldest at nineteen, ran a hand through her platinum-blond hair.

"He can't be more than twenty," she said quietly.

"Does he have a girlfriend?" questioned Brianna, a mere thirteen. Her friends laughed.

"He'd be too old for you anyway," her cousin, Trina said. Trina was eighteen, with one green eye and one blue one. The last girl barely glanced at her friends, her gaze instead locked on the store-keeper. Her nickname of Lust had been used so much that her real name had been long forgotten. She lived up to her namesake, unable to take her eyes from his sleek muscles, chiseled features, and curling dark hair. Her mind worked to form an image of him in bed, mouth watering at the thought of his making love to her. She wanted him. And what Lust wanted she got, by any means necessary. Her hand slipped to the chain at her throat, but she quickly dismissed the idea. She could tell he had someone, and that he wouldn't come easily. What she didn't know is why he had bought this piece-of-junk store.

"Hey, Lust!" Ashley shook her friend's shoulder.

"Huh, what? Oh, sorry, I was in a daze..."

Ashley gave her a strange look. "Well, whatever. C'mon, we need to go."

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec," Lust gave one last glance to the man, feeling her heart twisting within her, violet eyes wide with her namesake, then followed after her friends. Justin watched them depart, feeling dark guilt build in his heart. Its weight nearly made him collapse, but he fought to stay strong, knowing that his people still counted on him to lead them. Besides, as long as he stayed out here in human form, then the rats would stay safe, but he had no idea how much longer their slim peace would last. He had the feeling that someone else was still after them, and that he had been changed to stop them and, if needed, kill them. And he figured Lust had something to do with it.

"That vial around her neck," he whispered quietly. He hadn't been able to fully catch its design, but he'd recognized the symbols he had seen; an ancient text he'd deciphered not long before Elizabeth had arrived: characters he'd seen in Jenner's journals. But the dark rat had been dead for years, how could that possibly be? But then he remembered that they'd never been able to find Jenner's body, or Sullivan's for that matter. Nicodemus had been buried not far from their cliffs in the valley, and he was beginning to think that maybe the old rat was somehow watching over them from the grave, or maybe that was just him. Either way, he felt safer thinking his surrogate father was still protecting him, but he would never voice such a thought.

_But what of the Stone? _He recalled witnessing the gem merge with Jean's body, but what did it mean? How had it happened? And what was all that noise outside? He turned, facing the front, leaning on the broom he'd been using to clean. The moon was bright, adding to the glow that came from the street lamps, clearly illuminating the scene of what appeared to be the planning stages of a robbery. From his position he could see and hear the kids quite clearly, but they couldn't see him. He smirked, reaching up to turn off the lights, tricking them into coming in. He then hid behind the counter, hearing footsteps.

"Guy must be gettin' old," said one. "He left the door wide open."

"Where's the money?" questioned another. He seemed the youngest.

"Shut it, fool; we ain't here for no money," said a third. He turned, going toward the refrigerators in the back. "Least I ain't."

Justin rolled his eyes. Typical. Teenagers come to rob a place, yet have no idea of what they're going for. He figured it would just be the usual targets: beer, money, cigarettes, and maybe the jewellery if they figured out how to get in the back. But that didn't seem to be it.

"Have you found him?" the voice was high, angry, darkly familiar. It was Lust; but what was she doing here?

"No, we haven't," said the first boy. He seemed almost frightened. "Doubt he's even here anymore."

"He is," Lust replied. "I saw him just moments ago. No one could have vanished that quickly."

"Well, vanished or not we gotta go," the second boy turned toward the front. "The sun'll be up soon, dad wants us back before dawn."

"Oh, fine," grumbled Lust. She turned away, glaring at her face in a mirror. "But we come back first thing tomorrow night. I'm not going to rest until I have him back!"

The four of them left, and the door slammed shut. Justin rose a moment later, going cautiously through the back door of the shop, stealing into the faint light of coming dawn.

He staggered back to his place in the woods, falling to the stream as the sun's first rays began to skim the distant peaks, his blood boiling as the heat touched his face. He watched as the glow surrounded his hands, covering them in soft fur, claws growing to perfect points. He was able to suppress his cries of pain as his spine extended, tail becoming wrapped in flesh and fur. In a few moments he rose from his crouch by the stream. He was once more in his real form. Then, after what seemed hours of staring at the lightening sky, he dashed back for his home in the cliffs. He saw Elizabeth standing outside when he arrived, her face tilted to the heavens, hands clasped as though in prayer. Yet there was an air of wonder about her, and he couldn't help when his eyes drifted slowly down her form.

Her slim waist was emphasized by her soft yellow dress, hair pulled away from her gorgeous face. His heart pounded, pulse racing as she turned to face him. She smiled, running to meet him.

* * *

**_And, for those of you who've followed this far, here's a little preview of what's to come. Also, if you want more, review. I like seeing that people are still enjoying my stuff. :)_**

_Justin smiled weakly, feeling his life's blood merge with the soil, placing a hand atop his son's head. "Jean," he whispered. Jean looked up, gripping his dad's wrist with both paws._

"_Dad?" he gasped hopefully, eyes widening. Was his father truly alive?_

"_Jean…remember, you can't dodge fate, but you can change the path it takes…" his breath faded, jaw falling slack as his hand fell away. "Be brave…my son…"_

"_No…No!" Jean shook his father, tears pouring from his eyes as he felt his life fade. "Dad, no, please no…" but it was too late. The voices of Justin and Natasha Andrews had been silenced forever. The black form of their killer loomed above them, blocking out what little light remained from the fires._

"_Your time has come, boy," he hissed. His soiled blade rose high above his skull, reflecting the flames, blood slowly dripping from its curved edges. "It's over."_

_Hearing the words, Jean slowly bared his gritted teeth. "No. No, it's not over," he rose to his feet, lifting his head to reveal eyes that glowed with wrath. He wrapped his claws around his father's fallen blade, cold steel reflecting the light cast by his gaze. The frozen wind whipped at his fur, pulling at his tattered clothes as great drops of rain began to fall, further diminishing the dying blaze. His foe stepped back, feeling his tail collide with the tumbled remains of a wall, barely able to dodge the furious strike that would have beheaded him. His rage was erased by hopeless shock, seeing how easily the boy handled his sword, knowing already he was no match for Jean in this state._

"_You murdered my mother," Jean yelled. Tears poured down his face, yet his eyes still glowed. "And then you kill my father," his grip tightened, claws digging into the cloth that covered the handle. His breathing increased as his body was surrounded by a monstrous red gleam. "Well, I'm going to make sure you pay for it, one strike at a time!" the enraged teen meant what he said, releasing an endless barrage of powerful blows, each one bringing his blade closer to the stone heart of his enemy. When at last the killer was shoved to the ground, Jean stood over him, prepared to rush the tip through his chest with every ounce of strength he possessed, when all of a sudden there was a sharp blow to his wind, stealing the breath from his lungs as he fought to stand straight, causing his blade to drop from his grasp. Panting, he was unable to block the fist that knocked him to his back, causing blood to trickle from the very corner of his lips. His eyes soon lost their bloody glow, returning to their normal bright blue. They glittered with pain as the dark rat came closer, this time with a small knife held in his grasp. He was just about to strike when…_


	18. Blood Stars

Blood Stars

"Oh, Justin," she gasped. Her eyes ran with tears as she hugged him. He was quick to return it, yet knew something was wrong. "Have you seen the children?" she asked as she pulled away.

He shook his head. "No, I haven't," he said quietly. "Why, is something wrong?"

"It's Martin," she said. "He's vanished. The others don't know why."

"What?" Justin's eyes widened with shock. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "Yes; we've looked all over the colony, and Flint's still searching the valley."

This was difficult for him to believe. Just a few short months ago he'd found Elizabeth, lost in the woods without a memory, and now that he had her, her oldest was gone. Then he remembered something. "When was he last seen?"

"Yesterday, just before lunch," she told him. "He told Teresa he wasn't feeling well, and that he was going back to their room. When she went there later to check on him, he was gone."

"Besides feeling ill, was there anything else…out of the ordinary about him?"

She paused. "Come to think of it, yes there was." She then went on to explain that he'd gotten up early yesterday morning, now this in itself wasn't unusual, but the fact that he didn't report to Arthur's workshop was. Teresa had gone looking for him, and had found him in one of the newer construction sites, tampering with something while laughing like a madman. Yet he returned to normal the minute she got close. She never saw what he was working on, because at that moment some loose debris came from overhead, knocking her out cold.

"She just woke up an hour ago," Natasha concluded. "And so far, no one knows what's going on." She then lowered her head, brushing a dry tear from her cheek. The silence that followed was barely enough to let the news sink in, but then it was shattered by the footsteps of a child. It was Timothy, Jean wrapped tightly in his arms. "What's wrong, honey?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing's wrong, it's Jean," he held up his baby brother. "He said his first word this morning."

Jean gave a sweet little laugh, pointing to the sky that was half-full of fluffy white clouds. "Blue," he said quietly. His parents laughed, but it did nothing to lift the somber mood. All too soon the mirth was broken, again by the sound of footsteps. It was Cynthia this time, looking frightened and pale. She was also out of breath.

"Mommy, s-something wrong with…" she collapsed, revealing a slim trail of blood previously hidden by the large bow tied around her waist. It wound back several feet before vanishing into the shadows, flowing freely from a wound in the back of her neck. It was fresh, just barely reaching her spinal cord. They wasted no time in finding Ashton.

"Can you think of anyone who would want to harm children?" Justin asked later. Cynthia's wound had been stitched, and the child was sleeping peacefully. Unfortunately, she'd be bedridden for some time because of the blood she had lost. He and Ashton stood near the bed, holding a whispered conference.

"No, not since Cadrian, and he's…"

"I know," Justin sighed. He'd forgotten that Ashton was the youngest of the Genre children, and that Julian was also one of them. But he hadn't been seen in days. Come to think of it, neither had the triplets, but then he remembered that they all worked during the night, going about the colony while Justin was trapped in human form. Yet it didn't make sense that they didn't appear during the day.

"Have you seen your brother, lately?" Justin asked. His voice was further lowered, so no one could overhear.

Ashton shook his head. "Not since he broke his wrist a few days ago, and my nephews have all been drafted by Arthur."

Justin chuckled, just a bit. They really didn't need more rats, or mice, on the construction crews, yet the chief engineer was always on the lookout, just in case he saw someone he thought he could use. Yet Justin turned grave the moment his eyes rested on his soon-to-be stepdaughter. "How is she doing?"

"It's too early to say," Ashton replied. "But she seems to be doing well. That cut will leave quite a scar, though."

Justin rolled his dark eyes. Having a scar was no sign of shame, unless you did something stupid to earn it. "She can grow out her hair if she wants to, to hide it," he said quietly. Ashton just laughed. His leader could find humor in anything, almost.

"But what can we do?" Elizabeth stepped inside the curtain, having finished nursing Jean. She'd waited just outside with the child in her arms, listening to their conference. She'd chosen now to make herself known. "We can't allow this person to stay in our halls."

Justin rubbed her arm comfortingly, letting his nails linger in their son's fur. "I know this, Natasha," he whispered. "But we have no idea who it could have been, or what motive they had."

She gazed at him, nodding slowly as the words sunk in. "There must be a way to find out," she said firmly. He thought a moment, turning so that his eyes rested upon the floor near the bed.

"We don't have the technology that humans do, at least not yet," he began, then snapped his head up. "Ashton, how much longer until _its_ operational?"

"Two, three days tops," the doctor replied. "I'll have the crew work day and night until it's complete."

"What are you…talking about?" Natasha stumbled in her speech, trying to find the words she wanted, yet the look in her lover's eyes told her that she would need to wait if she was to find out. She nodded, taking their son back to their apartment while Justin and Ashton were again immersed in whispered words, but the tone of conversation had changed for the worse. Yet the danger had barely begun.

It happened later that night. Everyone, including the guards on duty, was lost in sleep as a faint wisp of shadow glided through the silent halls. In its hand was a small cup of red fluid. Every light it passed dimmed, then went out, the bulb silently shattering into crystal splinters that became embedded in the soft sand that coated the walls. It went only a little further, eyes focusing on a stately wooden door. The shadow drowned a single claw in its cup, tracing a shape that was sure to get their attention, and give nightmares to the one who discovered it. When it was done, it curled a paw round its mouth to hold its laughter, and in seconds returned to the woods.

"Mission objective achieved," it hissed quietly. "Returning to base." If anyone had been around to hear it, they would have thought the voice sounded faintly familiar…

"Teresa?" Timothy knocked on the door, looking around the empty hall. It had been two days since Martin's disappearance, and there still had been no sign of him. They were beginning to wonder if he would ever be found. Though Teresa was engaged to Julian, she still lived in the apartment she shared with her brother, and she hadn't shown up for her turn in the daycare. "Teresa?" Tim knocked again, wondering where she was, when he noticed a slim trail that hadn't been there before. "What's this?"

It almost blended with the wood, yet had a faintly metallic smell, like the copper wires in Arthur's shop. He followed it up with his claw, eyes widening when he saw what had made it. He wondered why he hadn't seen it before. "What the-?" his voice faded.

It was a star. A five-pointed star drawn perfectly in the median of the door. In the center pentagon was scrawled a strange word. It didn't even appear to be English. "Oh, Lord," he backed away, slowly, seeing that the halls were still empty, dashing to the home they shared with their leader.

Justin's pen jumped in his hand, splattering ink on the page. He'd been shocked by a loud, sudden pounding on his door. "Justin!" said a voice. It sounded scared. "Justin, open up; it's me, Timothy!"

"Timothy," the young rat stared down at the boy, seeing his disheveled hair, shirt damp with sweat, the blue eyes that glittered frantically. "Tim, what happened?"

"I'll tell you on the way," Tim tugged on his hand, stopping only when a paw pressed down on his head. He looked up into his step-father's eyes.

"Tim, you need to calm down," Justin said firmly. He knelt, putting his hands on Tim's shoulders. "Now, take a deep breath, and just tell me what happened." Tim did so, but it didn't do much.

"I was looking for Teresa," he started, still a bit breathlessly. "I went to the room she shared with Martin, thinking she'd be there, but it was empty." He paused, trying to calm himself. "I was just about to give up when I noticed what looked like a drop of paint. I followed it with my nail," he showed his stained finger. "And there a giant star painted on the door."

"And you didn't notice it before then?" Tim shook his head.

"No. It was almost the same shade as the wood, so I almost didn't see it."

He grew silent, seeing the look growing in Justin's eyes. It sounded absurd, he knew that, but didn't think the rat would doubt him. "If you don't believe me, I'll show you."

In minutes they were in front of it, Justin's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the scent. "That's not paint," he said quietly.

"What?"

Justin moistened his fingertips, running them along the dried brown fluid. He then rubbed them together, showing the stains to the boy. But the stains weren't brown. They were red.

"What?" Tim shed away, not wanting to believe it. His eyes shifted to the door. He suddenly saw the shape when it was fresh, seeing the blood as it flowed to the floor, flooding the ground at his feet. He watched as Justin reached for the knob, twisting it until the door popped open. The frightening vision slowly faded. He shook his head. "I didn't go inside," he explained. "I just assumed it was empty because she wouldn't come."

"Your assumption was right," Justin told him. The room beyond was bare of life, and the only other doors led to the bedrooms. Teresa's was open but empty, but Martin's was closed off. As usual, the door was unlocked, but a vile odor filtered through the crack once he opened it. It smelled like a cemetery. "Dear Lord…" resting on the floor was a group of dead bodies, each clad in tattered clothes, each covered in wounds. Two of them he knew right away, but only because of their relation to Julian. The ones nearest the edge were Austin's wife, Helena, and his daughter Ashley. A quick look and he realized that all those they had rescued from NIMH had been trapped in this room, unable to be heard as their lives were slowly stolen from them. But the worst was yet to come. He lifted his head, seeing another bloody star. It was nearly twice as big as the last, with a strange word scrawled in the center, one he could barely understand. Yet besides that marking on the wall, there was no blood to be seen.

He thought about it, when suddenly he was hit by a realization to horrid to be true. _Good Lord, it can't be!_

That horrid sight was still on his mind when he turned human that evening. It seemed to be the only thing he could focus on, even with the usual group of chattering girls that crowded his store. Even more troubling was the memory that this had happened before, when their colony was barely in its infancy. But then there had only been four deaths, one for each star, and they hadn't been nearly as gruesome. Yet now the carnage was spreading farther than ever, and he had no doubt that the halls of his colony were once more going to be drenched in blood; he planned to murder the one who spilled it, if only he could find out who it was.

_It couldn't have been me, _he told himself. _Not this time. _After all, the mischief had occurred during his time as a human, when he was banished from the land of Thorn Valley. The other notion was just as equally impossible, as the creature had been dead for close to a year, yet what other explanation could there have been?

_I came back, _he thought suddenly, remembering another piece of his previous life. The spell had taken a good amount of his energy, and he'd been out of commission for weeks afterwards. When it was done he'd strived to keep himself alive, even if it sometimes came at the cost of others. His thoughts were broken by a soft voice, its owner one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen.

"Disculpe, señor, pero me preguntaba si me entienden."

"Sí, perfectamente," he replied. "¿Cuál es el problema?"

"Sé que estás ocupado," she began. "Pero estoy tratando de averiguar donde estoy."

"Usted está en New Haven. ¿Es algo que pasa?"

"Me temo que alguien puede estar siguiéndome," she whispered. "Que busca hacerme daño." She shivered, gazing about as the others filed outside. There was a strange man by the door, who entered after the girls had left. There was a harsh smile on his scarred face, and he carried a strange case strapped to his back.

"Hola, mi querido," he hissed. His voice was gravelly, haughty. "Y ¿cómo están en esta hermosa tarde?"

"¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?" Justin snapped harshly.

"He llegado a la chica," he gestured to the frightened young woman. "Ella tiene algo que quiero."

Justin smiled. "Así, si usted la quiere," he shoved her behind him. "Usted tendrá que ir a través de mí."

The man reached into the pack on his back, bringing out twin blades. He smirked with contempt. "Con placer."

Justin didn't hesitate. In the few seconds he had, he shoved the girl beneath the counter, bringing out the knife that had saved his life more than once. Sparks flew when the steel collided, the sound echoing throughout the small space. Chaves was smaller, weaker than his opponent, but he made up for it with surprising skill. He had a counterattack for each move Justin threw, and in a few minutes had him pressed to the wall. A quick flick of the wrist, and the knife was thrown from his hand. It landed in a glass a few feet away. Yet there was no fear in his eyes as he turned back to the man before him. Chaves' bravado was fading quickly, as he saw that his strikes did nothing to his adversary; his voice came as a straggling whisper. "No son humanos."

"Efecto," Justin began, and plucked away the man's right blade. It was obviously his dominant, and without it he would be at a disadvantage. "Pero todavía estoy muy de este mundo."

Justin had nearly forgotten how it felt to fight with a blade, but he was far from rusty as he easily countered the blows dealt him. His body moved with frightening grace; while Chaves did little more than crash about like a bull, until he found himself shoved against the tiled floor, tip of his own blade pressed hard to his throat. Justin settled his boot on the man's thin chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Now, I ask you again," he said coldly, in slow, deliberate English. Chaves could have sworn his eyes flashed red as he leaned closer, voice dropping to a hiss. "What business do you have with this young lady?"

"She-She's a thief," managed Chaves, brokenly. His voice wheezed faintly in his throat, and though the shoe was pulled away, there was still the weapon on his neck. "She stole something sacred from us."

"What relic is important enough that you must kill to retrieve it?"

"It is the Ivory Sun, a sacred jewel passed down in our order for centuries, and I was ordered to go to any lengths to get it back." He turned to the girl, who had just started to emerge from her spot behind the counter.

"Señorita," Justin began. He figured he should have asked earlier, but recalled he hadn't the time. "¿Usted puede hablar Inglés?"

"A little," she said quietly.

"Have you ever heard of the Ivory Sun?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't."

"This man claims you stole it from him."

"He saw me…walking…down the sidewalk, and began chasing me," her speech was broken, but clear enough. But by the time he looked back to Chaves Rodriguez, the man had already thrust a blade through his heart, the same one he had tossed from Justin's hand.


	19. A Girl Scorned

**_Okay, I'm a liar, but I'm in the habit of posting bits as I finish them, and I have all summer to do it._**

* * *

A Girl Scorned

An hour until dawn, and Justin was laughing beside a young woman. She reminded him of Elizabeth, and even closely resembled what he thought she would look like as a human; her personality was also much the same. Her English was also much better than she had claimed.

"Thank you," she started. "For saving me; he probably would have done more than murder me if he had caught me."

"I was born to protect people," he replied, then looked about. He had unknowingly brought her to the very clearing he came to each night; and with the sunlight just minutes away! He glanced away, trying to think of how he could scare her off, when he felt her arms snake around him. Her honey-sweet breath filtered through his nose, making him think of new summer. He felt her lips pass softly over his, and gently pulled her away.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I'm engaged."

She giggled. "I know," and kissed him with more fire. She then turned away, dashing back into the woods just as the first fingers of sun stroked his neck. In a few minutes he was back in fur, hesitant as he watched the leaves finish moving, wondering who that woman had been. And how had she'd known he was engaged? _It-It doesn't matter, _he told himself savagely. As long as no one uncovered the truth he was alright, but how could he be sure the shroud was still drawn? Almost forgetting he was still wounded, he dashed away into the trees, unable to hear the echo of crying billowing through the blowing leaves.

The wind was roaring when he returned, but it still wasn't enough to silence the screaming in his skull. The internal torture of his past deeds was something he couldn't destroy, and he knew it, yet he had done everything in his power to soften the pounding that tore at his very soul. He might very well have gone insane by now, but something seemed to keep the evil from digging any further into his heart, but the force was without a name, meaning it was hard for him to believe in.

_As long as I stay sane, _he thought. _I'll be able to serve my purpose in life. _If only he could figure out what that really was. He knew what he'd beencreated for, yet refused to give in to his want for blood and destruction, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out, especially now since he led a double life. By the time he reached his home, he felt ready to kill.

"Justin!" He turned at the voice, seeing Natasha emerge from the shrubs a few feet away. Her clothes were stained and torn, her eyes watering as she dashed into his arms. He could do little more than hold her as sobs wracked her body. He ran his claws through her hair, only to find it tangled and shrouded with twigs and leaves.

"Honey, what happened?" her head snapped up at the endearment, as he'd never used it before, but she didn't hesitate to speak her problem.

"It's the younger children," she began. "Timothy and Cynthia have been missing since last night."

"What?" his grip tightened, making her wince. He'd forgotten how sharp his nails were. "You couldn't find them anywhere?"

She shook her head. "Timmy's either in the library or at school when he's not at home, and Cynthia's been in the infirmary since Martin disappeared," she broke off, once again sobbing. He held her close, offering what little comfort he could. But then something came to him.

"What about Jean?" he asked.

"I left him with Isabella," she replied. "She said she's been…" the words died on her lips at the look in his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"We have to get Jean away from her," he said angrily. "Isabella's mentally unstable, she can't control herself. She may end up doing something drastic."

They hurried to the hall where Isabella lived, stopping outside her door. The wood, normally painted a bright, cheerful pink, was now a dark shade that matched old blood. Inside they could hear disturbing chanting. "Kama noku, etah manimu…shona kenasan noku elide…" it was Bella, and he nearly froze as the words left her lips. Instead, gathering up what courage he had, he flung the door open, disturbing the hundred flames of the candles that lit the chamber, blowing the sand from its pattern in the middle of the floor. Lying naked on a post at its center was Jean, a knife poised above his head. They had come just in time. Isabella turned, shock and anger filling her eyes when she saw them, nearly hissing as she turned from her victim.

"Leave this place," she ordered them. Her voice was cracked, even higher than usual. Justin stepped forward, but thrust the blade back at Jean's face. "One step closer, and you'll bathe in his blood."

"Give me my child, Isabella," he ordered angrily. "You've no reason for doing this."

"I've every reason to do this, you cad," she snapped. She stepped closer, a cruel smile curling her lips. "Everyone knows you were supposed to marry me," she continued, and pointed her blade at Natasha. "But you…you dropped me as soon as this whore came around; you believed her tale of wanting our help."

"Bella, what are you talking about?" Justin was thoroughly confused. Bella was just a child when he'd met Natasha, and she was barely an adult now. "I-I never said-"

"You never said anything, true, but you wanted me as your wife. I could see it in your eyes whenever you looked at me. But now…" she turned to Natasha, eyes blazing, her voice mockingly sweet. "You could have lived, Mrs. Brisby, you could have gone on with your children and forgotten all about us, but no," she was again bitter. "Oh, no, you had to go and steal my man; your way of thanking us, I suppose, after you killed your husband."

"What?" Elizabeth's eyes opened wide, jaw dropping. "What on earth are you-?"

"I saw you, Mrs. Brisby," Bella held the knife to her face. "I saw you that night with Jonathan, the look in your eye as you killed him, strangling him and then tossing him in the river. You killed him, and you plan to do the same thing with Justin after you get bored with him. But I'm not going to let that happen."

Natasha was powerless to move, able to focus only on the blade aimed at her heart, seeing her blood spatter the face of her killer, Justin weeping over her dying form. She closed her eyes, tensing for the cut, but it never came. In a few minutes she slit one lid, seeing the girl being held back by her lover, whom she was powerless against.

"Let me go!" she shouted. The knife was soon tossed from her hand, but she didn't stop struggling. "Justin, let go of me!"

"What is wrong with you, Isabella?" he spun her, gripping her shoulders. "Bella, what's gotten into you?"

"I hate that bitch!" she shrieked. "I'm going to kill her for taking who was rightfully mine!" though she still fought, Justin paid it no mind as he spoke to his fiancée.

"Natasha, go get Ashton. We're going to need him."

Natasha wasted no time before she was dashing down the hall, calling for help.

"No!" growling in rage, Isabella tore the small blade from his belt, burying it into his side. She then shoved him away, dashing after Elizabeth. She caught sight of her near the infirmary, jumping her before she could even open the door. She then wrapped her hands around her neck, and slowly began crushing her windpipe. "You're finished, bitch."

Elizabeth struggled to breathe, seeing spots appear in her vision. Bella's face blurred out of focus as her vision grew dark at the edges. She saw Jonathan, her parents, reaching out to her, begging her to come with them, saying that they could be together forever, but a harsh gust of wind blew them away. The wind was air filling her lungs, her limp body returning to life as Justin ran up to her. A wound in his side bled freely, but it didn't stop him from holding her as the crazed girl was dragged away.

"Justin," she managed faintly. Her eyes blurred, she could barely move. "I didn't kill Jonathan, I…couldn't have…" her jaw fell slack, hand falling from his grasp. He held her close, barely holding back the tears in his eyes.

"I know, Natasha," he whispered. A single drop fell from his cheek. "I know."

Isabella was imprisoned later that night, due to spend the rest of her life behind bars for theft, worshipping the devil, and three counts of attempted murder.


	20. Dark Secrets, Hidden Answers

Dark Secrets, Hidden Answers

He groaned as he awoke, feeling the pain of his wound and the stiff bandages that pulled on his fur. He couldn't believe how Bella was acting. She claimed he had promised to marry her, even if no one recalled such a thing, and was apparently willing to do anything to get what she wanted. Just like Jenner. Come to think of it, she was starting to act a lot like that rat. They would never know that her mother had been one of the many rats he'd brought to his room. The dark creature had probably fathered a third of the children in the community, so great were his infidelities. And yet his wife had stayed with him until the day she died. But he had a feeling it hadn't been natural. He heard Jean start to cry, and rose to see what was the matter, and he noticed that Elizabeth wasn't in the bed beside him. She'd come home the night before, but had seemed apprehensive about being near him. He'd tried to ask what was bothering her, but she hadn't said a word.

_If she wants me to know, she'll tell me, _he thought, and suddenly realized he hadn't become human last night. But he couldn't worry about that now, as his son was still crying. Yet when he checked, the child wasn't in his crib. _That's odd, where is he then? _And what was that sound? He looked around, hearing it echo from all sides of him. Apparently that crying hadn't been the baby at all, and he soon realized it emitted from the hidden chamber. _Oh no! _his dark eyes widened in horror. _No one could have found that, it's impossible! _But the sounds told him otherwise. He followed them, fear growing as he grew closer. Someone was indeed in that chamber, the one where all of his secrets were hidden. And it was the last person he expected to see when he threw the door open.

"Lizzie!"

Elizabeth lifted her head, bitter tears dancing in her eyes. In her paws was his black journal, the first of many that recorded his bloody past. He had confessed everything on those pages, spilled his sins into every stroke of his pen, and now they all sat open before her. "Lizzie, I-"

"What are you, Justin Andrews?" she snapped. She rose to her feet, letting the book fall from her grasp. "Not even Jonathan kept this much from me," she murmured, then glared at him. "I'm sick of being lied to!" she snapped, and came closer, resting her hands on his chest. "Justin, why didn't you tell me any of this?"

"I love you too much," he admitted, embracing her. "I didn't want you to leave me."

"You're a murderer," she accused. "A devil worshipper," she motioned to the books. The oldest one was open to a drawing, showing the same set up they'd seen in Isabella's home. "Did you teach her?" she asked. "Did you fill her head with lies, and then drop her for me? Was she telling the truth?" she tried to pull away, but he kept his close.

"Natasha, please" he begged, sadness in his voice. "Please listen to me. That was a long time ago, back when NIMH still controlled me. I broke free of their hold, I've changed," he moved closer, so his face was mere inches from hers. "Please, you must believe me."

"I can't," she snapped. "I won't. I won't love a murderer, no matter how much you claim to have changed. It doesn't erase what you've done, and I'm through believing you!" she bit down, hard, where his neck met his shoulder, lapped up a mouthful of blood, and spit it back in his face. she then dug her claws into his side, reopening the stitches that lay under the white strips, tearing a bloody hole in his shirt. She shoved him away, dashing out before he could regain his senses. She was gone by the time he emerged, covered in his own blood, but it didn't stop him from looking for her. The people he passed all screamed in horror, some fainting as he frantically searched for his bride-to-be, feeling weaker with each step. He finally found her in Ashton's arms, sobbing into his shirt as he stroked her hair. His eyes were full of bitter hatred when he gazed at his leader. He then lifted her head, kissing her tenderly. Justin felt a sharp pain fill his heart, the world before him blurring as his head began to spin, next thing he knew he'd collapsed in the crimson pool flooding the ground beneath him, eyes closing as his breath grew shallow…

"No!" he awoke with a gasp, breathing heavily as he gazed fearfully around the room. The lights were off, sheets beneath him damp with the sweat that coated his fur. Slowly, he lifted a hand, laying it on his chest. His heart was pounding wildly, and there was no bite mark on his neck, or on his shoulder. He let his hand drift to his stomach, feeling the bandages. There were no tears in them or in his shirt. Relived, he fell back with a sigh, only to shoot up once more when he saw that she wasn't there. "Elizabeth?" he whispered to the dark. His only reply was the door creaking open.

"Justin, is everything alright?" it was Elizabeth, buttoning up the front of her nightgown. Her unruly hair told him she'd just gotten out of bed.

"I've just had a rough night, is all," he said quietly. He heard the bed creak slightly as she sat beside him. She lifted his chin gently with her hands.

"There's something bothering you," she said knowingly. His eyes widened. Had she really found out? "I mean, why else would you disappear every night?"

"Yeah, why else?" he rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

"But one thing still bothers me," she continued. She paused, turning to him. "Was it true, what Isabella said; did you really promise to marry her?"

He shook his head, still scratching the back of his neck. "I never did such a thing. She was still a child when we lived in the rosebush, but now that she's an adult she's beginning to take those rumors seriously."

"Rumors?"

He shrugged, leaning back against the headboard. His clasped his hands around one knee. "Apparently the girls began spreading tales about how I was beginning to look for a wife, and since Isabella has such a huge crush on me she figured she was the one they were talking about, and that I would marry her the moment she came of age."

"And you had nothing to do with all of this?"

He blew a strand of hair from his face. "I never said anything about it, unless I was telling them to stop with it."

"They didn't listen, did they?"

Another shrug. "Apparently not."

"Let me out!" Isabella pounded on the bars, trying to get the guard's attention. "Come on, Conrad; please, just let me out!"

Conrad turned to her, bitter scorn burning in his eyes. "Forget it," he snapped, and pointed his blade at her. "There's no forgiving attempted murder, no matter what the circumstances."

"But Conrad," she put on her most innocent look, which men always fell for. "He promised to marry me, then he abandoned me. Can't you see this isn't really my fault?"

He laughed coldly. "You really believe that old rumor?" he asked. He knelt down in front of her cell, sneering in her face. "Ha, that was just a story spread by the females. Justin wasn't even looking for a girl, let alone thinking of marriage. But that was before Mrs. Brisby came, before he met her."

He saw the tears well in her eyes, feeling no sorrow. She had attempted to kill their leader's son, as well as his fiancée, all because of a story she'd heard as a child. He decided to drop the bombshell that would destroy her completely, after recalling what else she had done. "I've known Justin since we were children, and I'd never seen him act that way before he met Mrs. Brisby," he saw her eyes widen, begging him not to continue, but he buried the blade to the hilt. "He fell in love with her the moment he saw her; and it practically killed him when he had to leave her behind."

"That's right, Izzy," her older sister, Catherine Autumn stood behind him, smiling haughtily. Her beautiful figure was enhanced by her tight black dress. "He never wanted you; hell, he never even noticed you before you tried to kill his family," she paused, running her nails through her hair. "Hmm, and I wonder what he'll say when I tell him who killed all those people he saved from NIMH? Were you jealous of them too, Izzy-bear?" she laughed mockingly, Conrad soon joined her.

Isabella felt her back hit the wall. This couldn't be happening. Tears began to pour down her face, but they only laughed harder, taking on the forms of Justin and Elizabeth. The cruel grins were foreign, foul expressions on their dazzling faces, and it only grew worse as they kissed passionately in front of her, bringing to mind all the things she had lost, all the things stolen from her. She screamed, but the vision refused to fade.

Her head snapped up, she looked quickly around. She was spread out on the floor, covered in soil with sweaty strands of hair stuck to her back. Conrad stood in front of her cell, arms crossed over his chest. It was hard to believe he'd been so thin and geeky as a child. His long black hair was tied with a leather strap, a short sword belted to his waist. His shoulders rose and fell slowly with his breath, the cloth of his tunic stretched tightly across his back. He'd have to get a new one soon, she noticed, but found herself hoping he wouldn't.

"C-Conrad?" she whispered. They'd known each other since they were young, but she barely recognized the furious face that glanced back at her, the boiling hatred in his stunning green eyes. She'd been so obsessed with Justin that she hadn't even noticed how handsome he had become.

"What do you want?" he asked coldly.

"Why am I in here?" she asked. "I didn't even do anything!"

He sneered, not bothering to reply. Unbelievable; she'd nearly taken the lives of three people, and had done much worse to others, and she dared to say she hadn't done anything. She hadn't even noticed how much she had hurt him whenever she'd proclaimed her "undying love" for their leader, how many times she'd broken his heart as a child.

_I've always loved her, _he found himself thinking. _But now that she's done this…I don't know how I feel. _The rest of the day they sat in silence, each trapped in their own world; Isabella cried herself to sleep that night, trying to figure out just what she'd done wrong.


	21. Searching

Searching

Justin's head was spinning. He had spent hours trying to find the connection between all that had happened, starting with the blood stars. He almost hadn't found the ones left at the sites Cynthia and Timothy were last seen, but now he had accurate sketches of each area. Timothy had vanished from the library, and the mark had been hidden behind a tapestry that concealed a large window. A trick of the light made him believe he had seen a dark shape slip into the woods surrounding the cliffs, but he wasn't entirely sure. Cynthia's had been in the daycare, giving quite a scare to the children. He was now in the chamber he used to hide his secrets, going over his journals to find the sketches he had made of the first group of stars, when they'd stained the halls of the rosebush. He also had the name of its victim listed beneath it. He was beginning to notice some horrid similarities.

The victims were all either half-breeds or orphans, people who had little or no family to care for them. Jonathan hadn't been the only one to marry a normal creature, nor the only one to keep the secret from his family. And each star had a word scrawled in the center. It appeared to be some type of message, but he couldn't make head or tails of it.

'_The white keeps peace, the black destroys, but together…' _that was it, nine words that created a phrase of complete nonsense. What did colors have to do with murder? But then he remembered what Nicodemus had often told him as a child: "The white keeps peace, the black destroys, but together they keep the balance of life." He knew that the old rat was supposedly psychic, had his words been a warning of some sort? _But that doesn't make sense, _he thought hopelessly, but knew he couldn't think of it now. Sunset was coming; he could tell by the surging in his blood. Carefully, he packed the books in a large bag, set it on his back, then slipped out through his hidden door. He thought he heard someone calling his name, but only picked up his pace in reply. He had to get out of sight before the change began. He'd done well so far with keeping the secret, and wasn't about to slip up now. But the person calling him was barely alive.

"Excuse me," he lifted his head, seeing a young girl with brown hair. Brianna, if he remembered correctly, the youngest of that group of teens that came almost every night.

"Yes, can I help you?" he asked, smiling charmingly. Her face seemed to darken a shade. But something seemed off. "Is anything wrong?"

Before she could reply, a large crash sounded from the front of the store, shocking them both. A dangerous shower of glittering glass began coating the floor, and in its midst was a young man with a bloody knife.

"You're not getting away that easy," he shouted, bounding through the mess. Justin finally noticed that Brianna's left leg was soaked in blood, her jeans and shirt ragged and torn. Her light eyes were wide and frightened as the boy came closer.

"Please," she begged, tugging on his shirt. "Please, help me!"

Justin could feel her shake as she dove behind him, felt her tears soaking his shirt. He pulled out his knife with the poisoned blade, yet didn't risk the shot. He knew he should have, though, when he felt the burn of steel in his side, ripping open the wound Isabella had given to him. The pain was much more than it should have been, seeming to tear into his very soul.

"Hand her over if you want to live," the boy hissed evilly. There was a cruel glint in his otherwise empty black eyes. He scarred lips were curled in a humorless grin. He reached down, whipping the toxic blade from his hand, pressing the tip toward his heart; if even a drop of it got into his blood…

"N-Never," he struggled to stand, clutching his side. His other hand he had pressed to the wall, holding him up as he glared at the boy. He then began to whisper strange words, the incantation to bring forth his full power. A strange light glimmered in his eyes, his wound quickly stopped bleeding, but it didn't disappear. She'd suspect something if it did. But now her tearing eyes were tightly closed, hands stopping her ears, her body folded in a ball on the floor behind him. The punk backed up.

"Y-You're not human," he gasped.

He laughed. "No, I am simply one hell of a creature."

"You're not from here, are you?" she asked. Justin had closed the shop early, using the time he had left to stitch up her wound. It was deep, and ran from her knee to her thigh, and was made even worse by the glass that had somehow fallen in it. He shook his head in response to her question.

"I was born in Mexico," he said. "My parents came here when I was a baby." It was true. His parents had lived in a factory down in Nuevo León, and had built their home in the trunk of a car they'd thought was no longer used, only to wake up one morning, passing through a place called Texas. In a few days they'd come to a city named Louisville, and had moved into an old sewer pipe mere blocks from the farmer's market. A few weeks later his parents had died, run over by the very car that had brought them to the States; two nights after he'd been caught by the men of NIMH, where he'd begun to learn English. His time in the rosebush had finished the job. He'd thought he had completely forgotten his native language, until that night when that girl had shown up; he finished with the stitches, cutting away the excess. She just gazed at his handiwork, shocked that he'd known just what to do.

"Where did you learn this?" she asked.

He shrugged, not knowing how much he could tell her. She barely saw the look in his eyes, the nostalgic sadness she had often seen hidden in their depths, no matter how he was acting. She bowed her head, fighting to keep the blush from her face. "Well now what?" she murmured.

"I suppose I should take you home," he replied, yet upon questioning discovered that she lived in a foster home about two miles down the road. Getting a ride would be impossible at this hour, and he didn't know of any hospitals nearby, so he went for his only option. He curled his hand carefully under her knees, letting the other lie flat on her back. The dusty wind burned in his wound, but it received little attention as he learned more about the young girl in his arms. That man in the shop had jumped her, asking about something called an "Ivory Sun", and had proceeded to rape her when she hadn't replied.

_That's the second attack involving this artifact, _he realized, and both of the victims had been in his shop at the time. But what in the world was it?

"We're here," her tired voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up to see a large house, probably built in the last century, with small shrubs struggling to grow around it perimeter. The small light on the porch lent its light to a stately white door. He held Brianna easily with one hand, ringing a bell that echoed loudly inside. In a few minutes a young woman peeked out.

"Yes?" she asked, then saw the child. "What happened? You were supposed to be home two hours ago, and-"

"Relax, I'm alright," replied Brianna. She tightened her grip on his shirt, resting her head on his shoulder. "He…saved me…" in seconds she was asleep. Justin felt himself smile.

"Thank you, for bringing her back." The woman's name was Alani, or so she claimed. Justin had helped her clean the girl up and get her to bed, and now they sat talking on the living room sofa.

"It wasn't a problem," he said. He gently fingered the wound on his side, only to see his fingers smeared with blood. "Guess that opened up again."

"You were injured?" she lifted his shirt to see for herself. The narrow cut was more than three inches across, and appeared to lie atop an older wound. "How come you didn't notice?"

He shrugged. "To tell the truth, I'd stopped thinking about it once I saw Brianna. She wouldn't have lasted long if I'd left her how she was. Besides," he added, and ran a finger down the scar on his face. "I've been through worse."

She stared at it, unintentionally looking deeply into his eyes, seeing the mix of emotions that hid there. In a few minutes she shook her head, blushing profusely. "Here, let me fix that up," she murmured, and brought a small box from under the coffee table. It was white, with a red cross on the lid. He spent the next hour thinking of what had occurred, trying to figure out what this Ivory Sun was, and why this cult was willing to kill to get it back.

"The Ivory Sun," he whispered, hearing her laugh. It was mischievous, as though she were a child who'd escaped with a cookie from the jar. A sexy smile formed on her lips as she held up the leather cord on her neck.

"I've got it right here," resting between two of her cherry-red nails was a marble, its etched design too small to make out. Justin lifted a brow; that was it? She laughed.

"Don't worry, it's not the real thing; it's just a replica I made after hearing the story."

She went on to tell him about the cult, which had started in Mexico centuries earlier, spreading to almost every corner of the globe. The sun was one of their relics, supposedly representing the pureness of light; there were supposedly four such relics, each a different stone, each with a different meaning. There was the Obsidian Moon, which was pure evil, and the Jade Dragon, new life, but the last had been lost to the ages. "And now the culture is starting to revive," she finished. "Meaning we're all in danger."

"What do you mean?"

"They are a murderous group," she whispered to him, and shivered. "They call themselves Diablo Paria, and believe they are the ones chosen to rule the new world." She shivered violently. "If you ask me, they're all just insane."

He sighed, looking away. So this is what Nicodemus had warned him of, a threat to the human world? But what did that have to do with them? _Anything that threatens them threatens us; _it was another of the lines the old rat had given him, possibly another clue, though none of it seemed to fit. "Tell me," he spoke suddenly. "If they do murder someone, what signs would they leave?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "But I hope I never find out."

He pulled a journal from his pack, flipping through it to the page he was looking for. It showed an image of a star, drawn so that it's five points touched the circle surrounding it. In the center was a word written in Latin: Impura. She gazed at it, lifting horrified eyes to his face…


	22. Heart's Prisoners

**Book Three: Diablo Paria**

Heart's Prisoners

"Are you insane?" Justin sounded calm, but anger could be seen boiling in his eyes. Conrad had been spending more time with Isabella now that she was in prison, and he was beginning to doubt she could have done what they claimed she had, that she was incapable of feeling true malice. "She nearly murdered my son, and my fiancée," his words were slow, deliberate. "And she would have succeeded had I not intervened, and yet you tell me she's innocent, explain yourself."

He sighed. "I'll start at the beginning then," he said quietly, though it was a long time before he continued. "I've loved her since we were kids, but she never noticed because she was so obsessed with you," a slim veil of anger covered his words. "The older girls saw it as a chance to have some fun," Justin motioned for him to continue. "They began spreading stories about how you were looking for a wife, and that you were waiting for her to grow up. She ate up every word, and never believed me when I said it was just a story, that they were just messing with her, and it only got worse when Mrs. Brisby came to the bush, seeking our help."

Justin shook his head. "That doesn't excuse anything-"

"I'm getting to that," the lad snapped impatiently. He sighed. "She saw the way you looked at the mouse, the way you smiled whenever you were around her. It drove her crazy, and then she found out that the story about you had been false, and her father's genetics kicked in."

His only reply was a raised eyebrow.

"She's never told anybody, but I managed to find out that…her father was Jenner."

His leader almost fell back in his chair. All the problems Bella'd had in childhood: the aggression, the lying, the trouble with trusting people; it all began to connect, creating a chilling image. Conrad then revealed all the secrets she'd entrusted him with, graphic tales of all the abuse she had suffered at her father's hands, the reason she'd fallen for Justin so deeply. When at last Conrad fell silent, his leader was left with a tough decision. He knew now that Isabella needed serious help, not imprisonment, but also that letting her free would cause an uproar; he was struggling to find a solution when again the boy spoke.

"She is dangerous right now," he consented. "And letting her free at the moment would only end in bloodshed," he paused, but just for a second. "She should indeed stay in prison, but at the same time she should get the help that she needs, and maybe someday she'll be deemed safe to release, but if not…well, who's to say we didn't try?"

Justin thought a moment, secretly fingering the hem of his shirt. "Alright," he said eventually. "But under one condition; no one is to know of this, understand? Not a word of it can reach the halls."

"Done," they shook on it. A quiet knock was heard on the door, and the person entered without being summoned.

"Ashton," Justin rose to his feet, instantly worried. He noticed the doctor's hands were smattered with blood. "What's happened?"

"I-It's Elizabeth," he said nervously. "She's in the infirmary; I'm afraid she's miscarried."

Elizabeth was gone when they arrived, lost in a land of dreams. Fresh tears glistened in her fur. The other doctor, a boy named John, was washing his hands, sighing heavily. His fur was white and light grey; he had a distinctly British accent.

"How is she?" Justin asked quickly. John dried his hands on a soft blue towel.

"Not too well at the moment," he replied. "But she'll live." He turned away, tossing bloody instruments into the sink. His face was also tear-stained.

"How far along was she?"

"A bit more than two weeks, she was carrying twins."

"Any ideas as to what may have caused it?"

He shook his head. "None at all; my guess is that it was a bad twist of fate." He turned to leave, followed by Ashton and Conrad. The looks on their faces said more than words ever could. They felt truly sorry for him, remembering all that had transpired during their time in the rosebush, even they all had been young children. Justin drew the curtain around her bed, gazing at her still form. Her breath was slow, catching even in sleep from sorrow, her claws digging into the sheets that covered her. He reached up, gently caressing the side of her face.

_The older children have all gone missing, and now she has this to deal with. _He sighed, recalling that her misfortune had begun not long after she'd met her late husband, and now it only seemed to be growing worse. His pounding heart contracted from guilt, releasing a fiery pain that shot through every nerve. He was suddenly acutely aware of the knife on his belt; he could end it all right here, right now, with just one slice. His paw moved on its own, drifting toward the onyx hilt, bringing the edge of steel to scrape against his throat. Liquid flooded his eyes, running freely down his cheeks, tip just beginning to slip past his flesh, when suddenly Jon's dying words echoed through his mind; _"Please, take care of my family." _Nearly freeing a howl of agony, he shoved the blade away, burying it in the bed mere inches from her hand, realizing once more just how much he'd come to love her. He would never go back on his promise, no matter how much pain, how much darkness flourished in his heart; he would never leave her, not until God had taken the final breath from his lungs, not while his soul still longed for revenge.

_But revenge for what?_ He could only stand and stare as he again wondered why he was still on this earth.

"_This is what love does to you, my friend; you become prisoner of your own heart."_

That phrase was one he knew very well. It was probably the one thing Jenner had said that he agreed with, both then and now. He was also the only one that had known the full extent of Justin's secret, even more than he had dared release in his journals. But he figured that now he had nothing to lose by writing down the rest of it, as he figured he didn't have that much longer to live. He gazed down at his hand, smelling a rancorous odor he had many times before. He knew all too well what it meant. His body was beginning to rot, as it did when he waited too long to satisfy its sickening needs. What he didn't understand was why it still happened, since he had broken the pact long ago, but knew that he had no choice if he wanted to live beyond sundown. He gazed at her a second longer, then made his way to the front of the colony.

The wind was howling, but it made no difference to him. While the guard was busy shielding his face from scraps of debris, Justin fought his way into the teeth of the storm, feeling himself grow weaker, knowing he had to find the spot before it was too late. He could feel acid begin to spill past his lips, bringing with it more of that sickening smell, but kept moving until he reached the cave where the blue fire burned, where he kept the only part of his past he hadn't locked away in his heart.

His soft fur was brittle and grey by the time he arrived, his limbs nearly skeletal, breath rattling in his chilling lungs. The air in the cave in was misty, full of smoke drifting from the sapphire flames, mixing with the vapor from the boiling spring in the back corner of the space. The air also held another strange scent.

Justin collapsed by the fire, allowing its heat to slip sweetly across him, his eyes drifting to the pail that rested near it. What he needed to do would take time, but now that he was here, the break down was slower, its potency decreased by the mist surrounding him. He moved about as quickly as he could, gathering what he needed from scattered spots along the sandstone walls, at last taking the onyx blade from his belt.

The mixture simmered in its place by the fire, the steam bringing to mind the form he was used to, his mind filling with images of his former life, before he'd made the pact to begin with. With the thoughts held steadfastly in his mind, he took his blade, slitting the throat of a young bird he'd found before in the forest. It was already dead, which would only better serve his purposes; the blood had to be young, whether it came from living veins or a heart that had already stopped beating. As he watched the red liquid drip in with its counterparts, he thought how much longer he would need to live in such a way. It had been six years since he'd made this deal, and it would be broken when he'd done this a certain number of times. He'd lost track of the number, yet somehow knew he was coming close to the end, but he had no knowledge of the clause that would work to break it early; he had to suffer death at the hands of his son.

_I don't know how much longer I'll be able to endure this, _he thought. The potion had taken on the hue of the flames, with a strange violet smoke rising from its surface. The portion was more than he usually made, but the more he ingested, the longer its effects remained in his blood. He choked it down despite its bitter taste, watching as his fur returned to its normal dark hue, feeling fresh life fill his veins. The pail clattered as it dropped to the ground. Justin gazed at his face in the pond. The light had returned to his eyes, no trace of grey visible in his fur, but he knew it would be a few days before his strength returned fully. No matter, as he planned not to go near her until then. But he would continue to search for the children, and vowed to find them at any cost.


	23. Back in the Past

Back In The Past

Justin strolled slowly through the crowded halls, lost in thought. He paid no mind to the people staring at him, shocked to find him out of bed so soon. Isabella and Conrad, two young children whom he knew very well, were secretly following him, as though they wanted something but were too frightened to ask. The young guard stopped a few feet from the library, turning his head toward the niche where they hid.

"I know you're back there," he said, smiling. He knelt down as they approached, putting himself on level with them. "Now, why are you being so secretive about following me?"

Instead of replying, young Bella simply broke into tears. She fell in his arms, hugging him tightly. He could do little more than return her embrace, offering what comfort he could.

"Oh, Justin," her voice was muffled by the cloth on his chest. "I thought you were gone!"

"Now, Bella," he said gently, and pulled her away. He wiped the tears that fell from her eyes. "Why would you ever think that?"

"You were hurt so much, they said you wouldn't live."

"Who did?"

She sniffled. "M-Mr. Ages…and my daddy; they both said you would die from your wounds."

He laughed sympathetically. "Well, do I look dead?"

She smiled, shaking her head. She spent another moment wrapped in his arms, calming herself down, then pulled away, taking Conrad's hand as they circled back for the daycare. Justin watched them disappear, then rose back to his feet, thinking about Isabella. She'd been so upset since her mother's death, and they still had no idea who her father was, or where she was living now that she was an orphan. He thought about how she acted around other children, being either excessively aggressive or shy, and that she already seemed a masterful liar.

_The poor girl; _yes, he felt for her, but knew that he couldn't let it distract him. He'd been kept from his job for long enough, yet couldn't help when his mind strayed to the tragedies that lingered in his past.

_Flashback_

She slowly reached out, putting her hand in his, unaware of their audience. Amelia had been with him for nearly two years, and now he knew the truth about her. Justin watched with tears in his eyes, seeing his love in the arms of a murderer, a gleaming smile spreading on her beautiful face. He watched as Cadrian's claws tickled her swollen belly, and knew instantly that the child within her wasn't his as she had claimed, and that her love had been nothing more than a ploy. Then his grief turned into anger, as the darkness of his heart again took over his mind. A common phrase drifted in his thoughts, bringing a secret, nasty grin to his face; _an eye for an eye._

Later that night, Amelia Jones sat before her small vanity, running a comb through her short, soft hair. It wasn't easy to gain Justin's trust, but she had managed to capture his entire heart, and now he had only two days left to live. _After all, they should share the same day, shouldn't they? _It had been almost a year since the Estrella asesino, and one of the victims had been her young brother, and she blamed Justin for the crimes. She planned to have Cadrian kill him on the same day her brother Will had lost his life, then have him take the life of the first man that had broken her heart, a Mr. Jonathan Brisby.

_Then they'll all get what they deserve, _she thought, laughing insanely. She had just set down her comb when she noticed some movement in the shadows behind her. "Huh?" she turned, seeing her bed and dresser. She shrugged, going back to admire her face in the mirror, when she felt someone breathe down her neck. She thought she recognized the scent, and called out a name. "Cadrian, if you want sex, you're gonna have to wait another few weeks, okay?"

"That's fine," a voice purred in her ear. It was deep, suave, and angry. She felt a hand, weaker than Cadrian's, but still strong, clasp onto her mouth, cutting off the scream that had formed in her throat. The other pushed something sharp into her chest. She didn't fight, recognizing the dark eyes staring into hers, feeling the hatred their owner held toward her. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but his eyes didn't change. Right before the life left her body, he whispered, "An eye for an eye," and slowly exhumed the soiled steel. Her last sight was his handsome face, twisted in fury, eyes glaring down at her. As soon as she lay dead, he slowly lapped her blood from his blade.

_End flashback_

He shivered despite the warm air. That dreadful night was a stain on his conscience, but he felt that, in a way, his actions were justified, since she'd planed on taking his life, as well as Jonathan's.

Jonathan Brisby had freed them from the halls of NIMH, and had been their leader before they'd found the rosebush they now lived beneath, passing the position to their current leader, Nicodemus. Amelia had fallen hard for him, impressed by his skills and ability to keep cool under pressure. She'd been delighted to find out that he'd fallen in love, but heartbroken when he revealed who it was: a young mouse of normal blood. She'd tried to talk him out of it, indeed most of them had, but the mouse wouldn't be persuaded. He was determined to be with her, regardless of the differences between them. Justin had been the only one to congratulate him on his engagement a few months before.

_And now he's finally worked up the courage to tell her. _Jon spoke little of his family, but Justin remembered the mouse saying he had three young children and a fourth on the way. But he hadn't yet told them of his altered genes, or what they affected. He smiled, though it was short-lived. He shielded his eyes from the sun, seeing the archers as they perfected their shots. This was an opportunity they hardly had, when the farmer and his family went on vacation, taking their cat, Dragon with them. It was noon of the third day, with the summer sun shining brightly overhead, bringing up waves of heat that shimmered from the ground. He could just make out the form of his friend, going toward the rock near the garden, heading for the large cement block he called home. He wondered what her reaction would be.

"Look out!" the voice sounded as a shaft snapped from a bow, heading for Jonathan. He didn't hear the warning, and had no idea about the arrow until it sliced through his neck, nearly decapitating him. Justin dashed forward, reaching the mouse in seconds, holding the creature gently in his arms as his lifeblood spilled onto the earth. The arrow had cut straight through his windpipe, becoming embedded in the soil a foot away. Jon knew he wouldn't live, and grasped the rat's sleeve with fading strength.

"Justin," he whispered. Tears poured from his eyes. "Please, take care of my family," his heart stopped seconds later, but the salty tears continued to fall.

He'd known right away it was Cadrian, due to the marking on the shaft of the arrow, but the youth had claimed the murder to be an accident. "It was the sun," he'd said at first. True, the sun had been bright, but it had never been a problem before. His next excuse was that the wind had blown it off course, and he'd ended up sticking with it. The other guards might have believed him, but his captain didn't, as there hadn't been a breath of wind that day until Jonathan was already dead.

_They both wanted him dead, _he realized. He knew that jealousy could run deep, but never thought it could poison so thoroughly. Amelia had wanted Jonathan, and had used Justin's wounded heart to get close to him, only to have the plan backfire with her own death. Yet no one blamed him. They blamed Cadrian, knowing that the Genres were a family of criminals, except for the youngest.

Justin was shocked that Ashton had lived more than a day, the child having survived through several months. Mr. Ages had taken care of him practically from birth, since Cadrian and their father had beaten him nearly to death. They blamed him for his mother's death, even if the evidence clearly stated differently.

_His scent was all over her body, _Justin thought angrily. _And yet they've done nothing but pass blame to the child. _Well, if they weren't going to administer justice, then he would just do it himself. Tonight the guard would be training in self-defense, and the only one skilled enough to face the captain was Cadrian, and Justin was going to make sure the boy was taught a lesson. But now there was something else he needed to take care of.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his eye as he gazed at his victim's panting form. "Had enough, Cadrian?"

Cadrian glared at him, gripping his shoulder as he rose to his feet. "It's not over until I say it is," he snapped angrily.

Justin sighed, grin gone from his lips. Just like Jenner, the child was stubborn, unable to know when he was beaten. "If you insist." The fight had been going on for most of the night, the rest of the guard having stopped long ago to watch them. Passers-by from outside also stopped for a glance, since someone rarely went up against a Genre. They had all either witnessed or learned of Jon's death, and figured that Justin had just begun to take his revenge. The crowd gasped in awe as he moved, barely touching the mat beneath him, avoiding his foe's strikes with frightening ease. He moved with a polished grace, grinning all the while, though they were unable to miss the fury that danced in his eyes, which seemed to only increase as Cadrian again collapsed to his knees.

"You know you can't beat me, Genre," Justin hissed smoothly, then sneered. "So I suggest you stop trying." He turned, walking slowly away, crowd parting to let him pass. Cadrian growled in fury, reaching into the belt of his sleeveless white tunic, pulling out a small blade. It was no more than a streak of silver in the air, then rematerialized between two of Justin's fingers. He glanced back, eyes dark with rage.

"I warned you, Cadrian," he tossed it casually, pinning the child's hand to the wall behind him. Cadrian gasped in shock, blood flooding from the wound. He growled in pain, shouting, "You're finished, Andrews! You hear me? Finished!"

Justin just laughed, and kept walking. But his demeanor was different later that night, once he was alone in his apartment. The weight of the sins he held in his heart had finally shattered the wall around his emotions, causing them to flood from his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shed this many tears, or why he allowed himself to act in such a way. It had been fine when he was a child, but that time was over, and now he had people depending on him. Now it only made him feel weak.

_You mustn't feel this way, _the Voice echoed darkly in his mind. It was deep, cold, and unforgiving. _You will never be seen in such a manner._

"What would you know?" he hissed. Tears still dripped down his cheeks. He bared gritted teeth. "You've done this to me," he growled. "You've turned me into a monster."

_Would you rather I have let you die? _The Voice questioned.

"I'm beginning to wish I had never made that pact with you," his fists tightened. "I should have just faced death, instead of delaying it like a coward."

The source of the Voice rose in front of his eyes, a large cloud of black mist. In its center was a red glow, pulsating when it spoke. "It was not your time to die."

Again Justin growled, recalling what had occurred before all of this, back when he was barely in his adult years.

_Flashback_

The dark clouds poured rain, thunder echoing for miles around the empty fields. It was barely spring, the frost just barely melted before the demon storm had arose, pounding liquid into the earth, land becoming black mud that threatened to slide free. Justin, a young private, was out searching for some of his comrades that had gone missing earlier that day, barely able to see through the blinding storm. The flashes of lightening helped little, illuminating his surroundings for split-seconds at a time, but making him aware of where he was. He had been looking for hours when he hit the farmhouse, wondering if they had fallen in the space beneath it.

_But they should have been able to get out, _he realized, though figured it wouldn't hurt to check. The space was empty, with just a dim pool of light showing the hole in the humans' kitchen floor. He was surprised they hadn't lost power. There was a faint buzzing in his pack; he pulled out a small black radio. Captain Leonardo's voice was broken by static, but still understandable.

"Private?"a slight pause, "Andrews, respond!"

Justin pressed the switch on the side, holding the machine to his lips. "Private Andrews," he began, but was cut off.

"What's your location?" barked the captain.

"Beneath the farmhouse."

"Any progress?"

"Negative; I've had no sign of our missing comrades."

Leo sighed on the other end. "We will continue our search in the morning; it's too dangerous out there tonight. It's time to pack it in."

"Understood, returning to base," Justin clicked off, but kept the thing in his grasp, just in case. He ventured slowly back into the jaws of the storm, emerging outside just as the sky flashed liquid metal. He could have sworn he saw…"Shit!"

Leonardo sat down on his cot, running a hand over his face. He'd told Andrews he was foolish to do this alone, but the young private had insisted he could get the job done, no matter what the circumstances. The storm had sprung in the midst of his search, but he hadn't listened when ordered to return. It was six hours now he'd been out there, and his captain was beginning to worry. Justin was impetuous, but he was able to keep a clear head, even under pressure. He also learned quickly, able to solve any problem he was confronted with. But he wondered, was it enough to keep the boy alive? He reached for the radio, knowing the boy should have been back by now.

"Private Andrews!" his only reply was sharp static. "Justin, can you hear me?"

"Affirmative," Justin's voice cracked through. He sounded out of breath. "Though I'm-"

"Where are you?" barked Leo. "What's happened?" he heard a loud, pained hiss, then the fleshy sound of torn tissue. He could hear Justin panting on the other end, a strange sound, then a long, blood-curdling scream. "Justin!"

It took them more than an hour to find him. They wouldn't have had it not been for the trail of blood, leading them to the tall grass just to the west of the farmhouse. Justin was unconscious, bleeding heavily, more dead than alive. They didn't think he would live through the night, but were awakened early the next day by the same harsh sound. It was Justin, clasped in the claws of a nightmare. It took four guards and a sedative to subdue him, but he fought to free himself as he revealed what had happened the night before.

"It was Dragon," he began, breathing heavily. His eyes were clinched shut, tears streaming from them. It was worst off they'd ever seen him. "I could smell their blood on his claws. Harry's tail was hanging from the monster's mouth…he almost had me, but I took his eye…he let go, then began chasing me…" he shivered, still fighting to free himself, unaffected by the calming herbs. "H-He almost had me, but I lost him, but not before he…" the young guard began vomiting, the bile tinged with blood. Ages slipped something into a glass of cool water, pressing it to Justin's lips. He managed to swallow it, then the life seemed to fade from his body. They could barely see the faint rise and fall of his torn chest.

"This should subdue him long enough," the old doctor muttered. Jonathan Brisby, the only other mouse in the colony, ushered out the guards, saying they would be sent for when Justin woke up. He then turned back to Ages, who was already going ahead with the procedure. "I'm going to do everything I can," Ages said quietly. "But there is a good chance he won't live. His wounds are serious, and he's lost a good amount of blood."

"How long would you say he has?" Jon's voice was heavy with worry.

"If I don't start on him now, he'll die before morning." The room was silent, Ages giving every ounce of his concentration to his grisly task. He stitched up the boy's wounds, setting broken bones, barely able to prevent a shard from piercing his heart. The last thing he did was locate a vein, inserting an IV line that would resupply him with the blood he had lost. The most they could do now was pray, and hope for a miracle.

"I've made him as comfortable as I can," Ages said at last. He slowly pulled off his red-spattered gloves. "All we can do now is wait."

Several days passed by. Many people came to see him, though he was always unconscious, but there was one that never showed up. Her name was Amelia Jones, Justin's long-time girlfriend. Was she simply too frightened to see him in such a state, or was there another reason she ignored the one she supposedly loved? She had been seen often with Cadrian, and there were rumors beginning to circulate about them. She also had a miscarriage. It was the only time she came to his side, whispering to him that she had lost their child, tears slipping down her cheeks all the while.

"There's something not right about her," Jon whispered to Ages. Amelia had just finished her crying fit, and had let the door slam behind her.

"Indeed," Ages scratched his chin, glancing toward his patient. "But there are other things that require my attention." He gathered what he would need to change the dressings on Justin's wounds. Jon excused himself, returning to his home in the garden. He was unaware of the dark eyes that followed him, the twisted mind planning to cut his future short.

He was trapped, lost in the night. There was no moon, no stars, nothing to guide him to safety. Tortured screams echoed around him, chilling him to the bone, filling his soul with fear. He could see nothing, yet he felt as though he were suffocating, a strange liquid flooding the land around his feet. Every step was harder to take, pushing more breath from his lungs. He tried crying out, only to have the words thrown back in his face, choking him. He knew he was dying, but begged to live, trying to find one thread on which he could hang. The flood was growing deeper, threatening to pull him from his feet, when it suddenly vanished, and a dark red light poured down from the sky, illuminating the tears on his hands, but it did nothing to ease the chill in his bones. Then the Voice came, each word pounding in his skull.

"You wish to make a deal with me?"

Justin had no idea who was speaking, or from where it really came, but he nodded in response. "I am not ready to leave this world behind," he said. His voice sounded faint in the vast space. "There are still people that I need to protect." He lowered his head, as though in prayer. "All I ask is to be there for those who need me, and to never be taken from them."

"If I grant you this desire, what can I expect to gain in return?"

Justin could think of nothing he held that this spirit could want, but didn't give up. "I can think of nothing at present, but I am sure I could find something," he stopped when laughter resounded around him. The light slowly faded, the darkness around him taking on a new form. The land around him became blood-red, black taking the form of a rat he knew well. "Jenner!"

Jenner Genre chuckled darkly, grasping Justin's chin in his claws, forcing the child to face him. He saw the darkness that rode in his heart, tasted the bitterness that flooded his soul. "I can grant you this desire," he began chillingly. "But only if you accept my terms. Are we agreed?"

Justin hesitated, knowing what would happen if anyone found out about this, but he realized that it was the only chance he had. "Yes, we are agreed."

The black rat smiled. "Excellent," he then kissed his foe, blowing his power into Justin's dying body, filling it with fresh life. Seconds later he faded from view, and Justin felt something growing in his lungs…

He screamed; a harsh sound that grated on the walls. Ages jumped from his seat, where he'd dozed after finishing his grueling task. He laid his eyes on an almost unfamiliar form, not believing what he was seeing. Justin had suddenly changed, becoming sickly thin, his grey eyes turned to shaded amber, and a thick mass of hair sprouted on top of his head. His fur also changed shade, darkening from a cream to a soft brown, though the color remained on his neck, chest and abdomen. He gazed wildly about, panting heavily, unable to move for the restraints on his wrists and ankles, binding him to the steel frame of the bed. He gasped in fear as the doctor came near, only to fall back into his unconscious state. Moments later Leonardo rushed into the infirmary.

"What happened?" he asked. "I heard someone screaming…" he trailed off, staring at the bed. "Who's that?"

"This is Justin Andrews," said Ages quietly. He wiped the sweat that had formed on the youth's brow. "He was awake a few moments, acting like he was trapped in a nightmare, then fell back into a coma."

"Has anything changed?" questioned the captain. Ages shook his head.

"We'll just have to wait and see," he whispered. Leonardo nodded slowly.

_End flashback_

Justin shivered once more, recalling that it had been another three months until he'd been able to get out of bed, and another two to convince the colony that he wasn't a stranger to them. At first he'd thought the pact to be a mistake, recalling what Jenner asked for in return, but he later figured it was the right price to pay for his selfishness. But it wasn't until he'd been allowed back into the training sessions that he'd discovered that his appearance hadn't been the only thing to change. Things that had difficult for him before he could now accomplish with ease, quickly earning him hearts and jealousy, but they never asked what had happened to make him this way, nor did he ever explain.

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**Okay, whew! This chapter took me forever to write, but I just couldn't find a good stopping point. And I really wanted to delve deeper into Justin's past, since he doesn't really seem to have one outside of NIMH.**


	24. Awakened

Thinking of it now made him shudder in disgust, recalling all that Jenner had made him do, and what he'd done himself once anger took over. He may not have been Estrella asesino, but he'd spilled more than enough life in his time. Thinking of it brought to mind their last night on the farm, when Elizabeth had warned them of NIMH, and how Jenner had nearly killed her. He remembered the fight, which couldn't have lasted more than a half hour, how that entire time he'd been thinking of her, how she had captured his heart simply by walking into his line of sight, but then he began blaming her for all that had happened, how Jonathan had been murdered because of his feelings for her, and how their leader had been killed while they were moving her home. But then she'd used the stone to free it from the mud where it had fallen, preventing the deaths of her children and their "Aunt", that vexing old shrew. He laughed a bit as he remembered the last look he'd seen on her face, just because he'd had Natasha clasped in his arms.

He'd dreamt more than once of that night, of the few minutes he'd had alone with her after she'd fainted. She'd been so lovely, even in sleep, the only flaw being the burns on her hands, cast there by the stone that lay dormant around her neck. Her lips had looked so inviting, and at the time he'd felt filthy for the kiss he had shared with her, knowing that she was the widow of his closest friend. But it's impossible to control who you fall in love with, regardless of the circumstances. But he didn't have time to worry about the past now, as the future was looking bleak.

_What could the group want with these kids? _The question seemed obvious, but at the same time made little sense. The girls in his store had just seemed enamored with him, unknowing of such things as the Diablo paria. What could they have to do with it? They were probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the more it happened, the more suspicious he became. After all, attacks like that just didn't occur randomly more than once in the same place, and his doubt grew smaller the more he thought of the Ivory Sun. How in the world did it fit into all this?

_Well, no time to worry about it now, _he thought. He saw the city rising in the distance, easily despite the thick fog that surrounded him; it had a strange, yet familiar odor. _Almost like…_his thoughts cut off, eyes widening at the sight before him. Scalding flames engulfed his small shop, gold and orange tinged with white. That fog had been smoke, the scent gasoline. A crowd of people, large and still growing, stood before it, wondering how it could have happened.

"Stand back, sir," an officer held him at bay.

"I own this place," Justin informed him. He took a step closer, not feeling the harsh heat of the fire. He turned to the men struggling to control the blaze. "What happened here?"

"Someone called and said this place was engulfed," he couldn't tell who had spoken, instead focusing on a bit of movement behind a smoky pane.

"Someone's still in there!" this time the voice came from the crowd, another he didn't recognize. Justin felt his instincts take over. He moved even closer to the flames, ignoring the cries of protest surrounding him, the hands that tried to pull him back.

"Are you crazy?" a fireman shouted. That first officer took hold of Justin's arm, unable to match the stare that looked back at him.

"No one could survive in that blaze," he said quietly. Justin quickly slipped free of his grasp.

"I'm not taking any chances," he murmured, and plunged into the flames. Cinders and ash covered the floor, as well as glass and bits of twisted metal. Apparently an explosion had happened during the fire. Yet below the hissing flames, a sound barely audible caught his attention. He looked about the smoke filled room, eyes starting to water, breath growing shallow. It took a moment before he found its source: a woman, curled up in the corner, sobbing like a young child. She had dark hair and tan skin, a long blue dress that smoldered at the edges. He hurried to her side, only to find blood leaking from an unseen wound. The sound of creaking also caught his attention. The structure was weakening, nearly ready to collapse on top of them. He took her in his arms, holding her firmly to his chest, but could no longer find a way out. The creaking grew louder, accompanied by cracks and groans as the flames continued to crackle. There was no time to get out, no time to move before debris began raining on them, ash pouring from the ceiling as the walls gave way. He could almost hear the gasps as flaming wood covered his form, burning his flesh, splinters tearing his clothes. He fell to his knees as the hellish storm continued raging around them.

The fire was out moments later. People bowed their heads, realizing that he hadn't come out. Some laughed under their breath, thinking how foolish he'd been to enter the flames in the first place. They had just begun to disperse when a strange noise caught their attention. It sounded almost like concrete, being scraped against a bed of nails. They turned, watching in shock as a large piece of wood was tossed aside, the person behind it torn and bleeding. Only one hand was free; the other held the form of a lovely young girl, who was just beginning to come around.

"Huh?" she whispered. She looked around, seeing the strange faces, feeling someone grip her. Her eyes drifted up, widening as they met his. "It's you…" she said happily, and wrapped her arms more tightly around him. She pressed her lips to his just as a strong flash went off.

The story was out just before dawn. Justin had spent the night in the hospital, but had insisted he was ready to go home. There was a bundle of newspapers waiting outside the front door. Glancing about to make sure no one was looking, he cut off the string, able to get a full look at the headline which, oddly, was written in Spanish. He smiled, eyes drifting down to the photo beneath it. It was black and white, slightly blurred, but clear enough to see details. It was of him and the girl, what she'd done to thank him for finding her. Beneath it were the words, _'New meaning of life-saving kiss.' _

He gave a small laugh, then saw fur beginning to grow on his hand. He slipped into the woods behind the white cube, taking one of his longer routes to the clearing. He was already a rat by the time he arrived, but it was still early enough that no one had noticed. His wounds were now invisible, but he could still feel the sting of burns. Yet something seemed different when he glanced at the stream. He looked closer, seeing the ghostly forms of four young children. They looked familiar, but the fear in their eyes was one he'd never seen before.

"Help us," a small voice echoed in his mind, but he couldn't place the name. "Justin, help us!"

He blinked in surprise, only to find himself alone in the stream. Had he just been seeing things, or had it been something more? He glanced further down the east bank, seeing something dangle from the branches of a small tree. It was long, thin, and pastel pink. Teresa's hair ribbon.

_What the-? _He leapt up, taking it into his claws, seeing the tears that marked either end. It was cold, her scent faint. Apparently it had been here for some time, but why had he not noticed it sooner? Come to think of it, how had it even gotten here? He noticed another scent, one that seemed familiar, but was unable to place it, meaning that someone had planted it here. _But who? _

"Any sign of them, Leo?" Leonardo had long since retired from his post in the guard, but was in charge of the search parties sent into the valley. He shook his head.

"Negative; there hasn't been so much as a paw print, let alone a visual sighting."

The news was disappointing. For them not to have left a trace meant that they hadn't gone willingly, and that whoever had taken them didn't want them to be found. Justin pulled the ribbon from his pocket, handing it to his old captain. "Perhaps this will help," he stated. "I found it in a clearing, but I couldn't trace the scent."

Leo took a sniff for himself. It defiantly smelled like Teresa, but also unlike anything he'd ever smelled before. "It's almost like a combination of rat and human," he murmured. "Hey, Justin," he looked up, but his leader was already gone.

"Ugh!" Jean fell on his stomach, getting shakily to his feet. His mother was asleep, and he'd managed to break free of his crib. He'd decided it was time he try to take his first steps, even if it wasn't going so well. He fell every other minute but, like his father, refused to give up. He wanted to be walking on his own by the time his mother woke up, so that Justin would have a shock waiting for him when he got home. He'd just gotten up to try again when he heard the front door slide open, his mother moaning softly in her sleep. Without realizing it, Jean Andrews was running into the front room, only to be caught up in his father's arms.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked, realizing it was time for the boy's morning nap. Jean giggled mischievously.

"Wanted be wake when daddy come home," he said quietly. He'd learned to speak very quickly, and was annoyed because he still couldn't walk. Justin laughed, kneeling on the floor. Jean pulled himself free, gazing at the giant. "Where daddy been?"

"Yes, where have you been?" Elizabeth stood in the door, leaning against the frame. She caught sight of their infant son. "And how did you get out here?"

"Me want show daddy," said Jean. He got to his feet, going to his mother. "Me can walk."

She smiled, taking him in her arms. She couldn't believe how the boy had developed. He'd been alive little more than two months, and was already acting like a three-year-old. She still wondered what could have caused it, apparently having not noticed the faint red mark around his bright eyes. She still hadn't found the stone's hollow shell, nor had Justin told her what had happened. For some reason, he felt it was best she didn't know. "Especially now."

"Hm?" she looked up, having heard him. "Did you say something?"

He shook his head. "Just trying to think of where the kids could be."

"Why would they just disappear?" she asked.

"They didn't go on their own," he said quietly. her returned look was blank.

"What are you talking about?"

He hesitated, then figured it was time to tell her. "Come with me," he said. "There's a part of our history you have yet to see."

He brought her to his hidden chamber, lighting the candles with a snap of his fingers. Her eyes widened, heart racing as she took in the horrid scene. The cavern was vast, its farther reaches lost to the shadows, every sound thrown back in her face. Resting on a far wall was a ring of red stars, a strange brownish color. Surrounding the symbols were red candles with black flames, giving the wall an evil glow. She turned back to her fiancé, who had a small black book in his claws. He whispered in a strange tongue, his smooth voice biting coldly into her heart, nearly making her lose her grip on their son. Jean sat in rapt attention, feeling a vast power that flooded around them, wide eyes locked on the form of his father.

Justin was slowly being surrounded by a dark mist, his form soon becoming lost to their view. Jean felt the power surging in his blood, and began pushing eagerly against his mother's grip. "Want down," he said firmly. Unable to control herself, Elizabeth set him on his feet; he rushed over to where his father stood. He slid a hand through the mist, finding Justin's cape, grasping it tightly, being pulled in by an unfelt wind.

The air in the cyclone was bitterly cold, biting into him as he stared at his father's calm face. Justin's eyes were glazed over, lips set as he continued to intone the words before him. Jean lifted his hands, levitating into his grasp, eyes scanning the symbols inscribed on the pages. He couldn't understand it, but knew that it was somehow tied in with his siblings' disappearances. Slowly, he reached out, only to have a searing pain shoot through his arm. He screamed, though it went unheard as the chanting continued, the pain spreading throughout his entire body. The red mark around his eyes began to glow, absorbing the cloud that surrounded them, consciousness ebbing as Justin finally snapped the book shut. Aside from a single, sputtering flame, the cavern was now completely shrouded in darkness.

"The boy's powers have finally been awakened," she said to him. He nodded, grinning devilishly.

"Excellent."

"Shall the others be returned?"

He thought a moment. "No, let them suffer a while longer. We will let them go once their position is realized."

"Very well, master," she bowed, departing. He sat back in his chair, chuckling evilly. Everything was going according to plan. The children had been removed from their home, the infant had absorbed the gem, and Justin had finally revealed his secret to his fiancée, though he doubted she would remember it, and now Jean's full power was finally awakened. All he needed now were the artifacts, and the night of winter's first new moon.


	25. Darkness Revealed

Finally! Thought I'd never get this one done!

* * *

Darkness Revealed

The sky was covered in crying clouds, as it had been for days. They'd had to cease all attempts to find the missing children, but that didn't mean they stopped searching for clues. Justin was preoccupied with searching through the library, trying to see if he could find anything that may have a connection to the Diablo Paria. He also found that he could now control when he became human, and only went out every few nights to keep up his appearances in town, and to see to the shop, which they'd offered to rebuild. He wondered why all this was happening, especially when all ties with Mexico had been severed years ago. He hadn't been a follower of the group for very long, and had never known of its artifacts until that man had ranted about them in his shop.

_What could all of this mean? _He pulled a book from an old shelf near the back wall of the library. It was one he had never seen before, having a dark blue cover, inlaid with black stones. It was closed with a black lock. The book seemed to emit an evil aura, and he felt that it contained the answers he'd been searching for. There was just one problem; the lock had no key. He glanced around, seeing no one, then wrapped his claws tightly around it. The creaking of metal grated in his ears, echoing there more loudly than in the chamber around him, but he had soon broken it.

_What is this?_ The book's pages were yellowed with age, covered with a hand he felt he'd seen before. But the signature ending every entry was blurred beyond recognition, as though the author didn't want future readers to know who he had been. Once more he looked about and, seeing no one, tucked the volume securely into his cape. He'd gotten about half-way to his room when a series of shocked cries echoed in his ears. He turned, seeing a ring of people outside the daycare doors. He went over, tapping a rat on the shoulder.

"What's going on here?" he asked.

The rat hesitated, then slowly moved aside. Now able to see the chamber, Justin couldn't believe his eyes. Jean was lying in the center of the room, bleeding freely from a wound in his chest. The other children had all moved to one corner, the farthest point from a strange sound that echoed throughout the chamber. Justin knelt by his son, feeling for a pulse, when the sound suddenly grew louder; a rattling he had heard many times before. He looked up, seeing a rattlesnake curled in the corner, forked black tongue flicking from its mouth. It seemed no more than an infant, which meant that Jean needed help as soon as possible. Justin drew his blade, quickly beheading it, then turned back to his child. He knew there was only one way to save him, and summoned just one of his many hidden powers. His hand took on a golden glow, the light flowing into his son's wound, pulling the toxins from his blood, spilling them onto the stone floor.

"How come no one tried to help him?" Justin asked once the task was done.

One of the teachers, a young female he'd never seen before, stepped forward. "We were all too afraid," she said meekly. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and she was facing the floor. "We were afraid it would get us too."

Justin rolled his eyes. Taking his son in his arms, he strode from the chamber, leaving nothing but shocked, silent faces in his wake. They had always known their leader was different, but they had never before thought how different, even if some had witnessed his doings of the past; but they weren't the focus of his frazzled mind. He knew from the climate that rattlesnakes weren't a native species, the valley was too far north, its winters too cold, and they'd never been seen until today. But then where had it come from?

_Probably dropped by someone; _the mere thought sounded ridiculous. Humans weren't allowed anywhere near this valley, and even if they were, who in the right mind would carry a rattlesnake around? He shrugged the question off as he reached his front door, but something made him pause before entering. It was the sound of voices, two he could have sworn he'd heard before. Careful not to disturb the sleeping infant in his arms, he leaned up against the painted wood, able to hear every word.

"Are you sure this is her?" said one. Justin could hear the groan cast by his companion.

"I would recognize her anywhere," he replied. His voice held a certain strain of depression.

"Well, alright," his partner still seemed unsure. "But we should wait until evening to take her; less chance of being seen."

His friend hesitated. "Fine," he said at last. The pair moved quickly toward the door. Justin moved to the side, so that he wouldn't be seen. But what emerged was far from who he expected. The two forms were supposedly dead, one much taller than the other. The taller one was also much rounder, with dark fur and brown clothes. He appeared to be a rat. The second was ash grey, with a large sweep of hair on his head. He turned back, feeling he was watched, but saw nothing. Shrugging, he turned back around, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his vest.

Justin moved silently from the shadows, still clutching his sleeping son. He had just seen a pair of ghosts, and they appeared invisible to all around them. And the worst part was that he knew them both.

_No, _he thought. _No, that's impossible. _Yet even as they came, he knew the words were false. It was more than possible to come back from the dead, if you had the right technology, or the right magic. However, it only took one mistake for the attempt to go horribly wrong. He stepped silently through the door, shutting it behind him, seeing Elizabeth asleep on the couch. She didn't appear to be injured, though he couldn't help but notice the multiple, minute holes in her gown, as though many claws had torn through it.

"Elizabeth," he whispered. She didn't respond. He placed Jean on a chair, taking her shoulders in his hands. "Elizabeth," he whispered again. Still no response, even when he shook her. A claw to her neck proved her heart was still beating, but her breath was shallow, as though she'd just been running. He remembered the pair that had come from the room, how they'd appeared to have a disagreement as to who she was; not surprising, since she looked nothing like the mouse she had been.

"Elizabeth," he whispered again, and finally caught it; the scent of Ashton's strongest sedative. He sighed, knowing she would be asleep until well after sundown, when they planned to abduct her. His lips curled, a cold-hearted plan forming in the darkest recesses of his mind. He would wait with her until they arrived, then give them a taste of their own dark magic.

He felt it in his blood before they arrived, a sudden chill that flowed right to his core. His eyes slowly opened, arms wrapped around his fiancée. He slipped his hand beneath his pillow, pulling out a long knife. He lifted himself, sharp eyes searching the dark, knowing that they hadn't yet come. He heard every sound that passed through the colony: the wind outside, the grinding of gears in the workshop, the gentle breathing of the souls around him. He also felt something; Elizabeth's hair as she shifted in her sleep, moaning quietly as the cool air touched her back. Justin shoved his blade back beneath his pillow, facing the window as her arms draped over his shoulders.

"What are you doing up?" she asked quietly. He could hear the grin in her voice.

"I thought I heard something," he whispered back. Even though the light was so dim, he could see every line of her body, as though he were staring through glass. He smiled, placing a hand on her cheek. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

She giggled, moving closer. His warm breath coated her lips, making her feel safe and secure. She reached over and switched on the lamp, only to fall away from him. She nearly screamed, but terror stole the sound before she could make it.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He noticed his voice had suddenly changed, its smooth tones mangled.

"Who are you?" she whispered. She moved as far back as she could without falling from the bed.

"What do you mean?" he looked down at his hands, seeing mangled flesh. His eyes widened, hands drifting to his face. He felt nothing more than sparse, brittle fur. He turned to Elizabeth, who was now holding a paw to her nose. He reached out and took it, looking deeply into her eyes. "Come with me," he said quietly. "There is something I must show you."

She nodded, fear having stolen her voice. His grip tightened on her hand, but it felt as though nothing held her, and the feeling only increased when strange words drifted through his lips, which were now dry and cracked. In a few seconds a strange mist filled her nose, and she opened her eyes to reveal a cave shrouded in smoke. Her lover was there, crouching by the fire, combining what seemed random things in a disk of boiling water, taking at last the corpse of a young bird, slitting its throat and letting the blood drip into the bowl. She also watched his appearance as it slowly kept changing. Her eyes were transfixed as he inhaled a strange violet mist, bringing the bowl slowly to his lips. She wanted to cry out, but again her voice failed her.

In a few seconds the liquid was gone, barely a drop remaining in his fur. She watched as its hue darkened, returning to the deep brown that she knew; she could actually see his strength return. When it was done he turned to look at her, dark brown eyes flashing with shame. "I wanted to keep this from you," he whispered, and rose to his feet. He walked over to the mouth of the cave, leaning against the stone as he stared at the unchanging landscape. She stepped in front of him, putting her hands on his chest. His heart was pounding.

"Justin," her voice was a whisper. He tilted his eyes down to meet hers. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I was afraid you would leave me," he hissed, and turned away. She reached up, grasping his chin, forcing his eyes to stare into hers.

"What makes you think I would leave?" she asked. "And give me the truth."

He sighed heavily, pulling her hand away. "I have to do this just to survive," he said angrily. He let his claws dig into his flesh. He exhaled, kneeling on the floor, resting his fist against the stone wall. "Just because I was too frightened to die."

"What do you mean?"

He sighed a third time, lifting his forehead from the cold stone. "I wasn't always like this," he began. "There was a time when I had a much different appearance, different strengths, different weaknesses."

"Justin, you're not making sense." She sounded both frightened and worried. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"It was several years ago," he began. "Just a short while after we had settled in the rosebush. Some of my comrades had been missing for several hours, and I made the mistake of going out alone to find them. A massive storm blew in, but I refused to go back alone. I had just exited the space beneath the farmhouse when I saw Dragon in front of me, Harry's tail hanging from his mouth…" he shuddered, going on to tell her every detail of his past, eventually going back to his birth in Nuevo León, Mexico. She stared at him a while longer, after he had finished, two emotions dueling for dominance in her heart. The first was anger. A small portion of her soul that wanted to hate him, but it had no power against the other emotion, the one that sent her heart racing. She got down her knees in front of him, resting her hands on his chest. He gazed at her, guilt and remorse filling his eyes.

"I'm going to accept your decision," he said. "No matter what it is."

She smiled, moving closer. A slender hand drifted to his cheek, the other pressed against his heart. "I love you, Justin," she whispered to him.

"How can you?" he asked. He pulled the knife from his belt, its tip still stained with blood. "I've murdered more than once. How can you love me if I've taken innocent lives?"

"Because it wasn't you," she said firmly. "It was Jenner controlling you. I know you," she continued. "And I know that you would never kill willingly-"

"What about Amelia?" he asked. "I took her life without remorse-"

"That doesn't matter," Elizabeth told him. She shook her finger at him as though he were still a child. "She was planning on taking your life, and Jonathan's too, all in revenge for crimes you didn't commit. Justin," she added, touching his cheek again. "You killed her to save your life; you just what you need to."

He gazed at her, eyes beginning to water. "But Cadrian still succeeded in killing your husband; he committed the crime with most of the guard, including me, as witnesses. I nearly killed him after that, but he ended up perishing when we moved your home." Her confused eyes told him to continue. "He was found beneath the wreckage, alongside Nicodemus."

"But you said only Jenner and…"

"We didn't know until we had cleaned up. From his position we guessed that he was actually trying to _save _Nicodemus, as if to repent for his former sins."

"How come you never told anybody?" Conrad was staring through the bars of the cell, tightly gripping Bella's trembling hand.

"They would just think I was lying." She replied. Her voice was shaking, tears fighting to fall from her eyes. But she wasn't going to break down, not after all she had done, not in front of him. "My own grandmother didn't even believe me."

"Jenner may have been crazy, but he did know how to hide…" Conrad fell silent, unable to take his eyes from her trembling frame. In a moment he glanced down at the keys on his belt, taking his paw from Isabella's.

"Conrad?" her eyes widened. She stood as he unlocked the cell door, pulling it open.

"I'm going to get busted for this," he said quietly. "But I can't stand seeing you shake like that."

She smiled, running the few steps it took to reach him. He lifted her in his arms, holding her tightly to his chest.

"I'm sorry about before," she whispered. A single tear fell from her eye. He gently wiped it away.

"Don't be," he said. He moved his face closer to hers, breath warm on her lips. "I'm just glad you're here now."

She smiled, doing what she'd longed to for weeks. Her arms tightened around his neck, bringing him closer, allowing his lips to fall over hers. He sighed, unable to resist.


	26. Human

_I bet you all thought I'd abandoned this, huh? After all, I haven't updated since August! School's been a major pain in the ass, and now I have something else to worry about, too: I just got my first book published, and I've been bloody busy trying to get people to buy it! Anyway, as an apology for my absence, I've made this chapter longer than the rest, but I assure you, it's nowhere near over yet!_

* * *

He'd been in this world for more than a week, searching everywhere he could for the children. He gave their descriptions, or what he thought they would be, to the police, but so far nothing had turned up. He was most often seen during the day, keeping his store closed more and more often once night had fallen. He had just been about to close for lunch one day when a young woman came in, looking lost.

"E-Excuse me," she said nervously. Her eyes strayed everywhere, as though she were trying to avoid making contact.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Can I help you?"

She blushed, sighing timidly. "Oh, this is going to sound bad…"

"Is something the matter?" he asked, coming a step closer. He recognized her as the girl he had saved the night of the fire. Now, besides a few scorched spaces on the trees out back, you couldn't tell there had even been one. She sighed again, and he could have sworn he saw tears forming in her tightly closed eyes.

"Will you go out with me?" she blurted suddenly, then turned away and covered her mouth. She groaned softly in embarrassment. "Oh, I cannot believe I just said that, even after you told me you were engaged!" she ran to the door, tears streaming from her eyes, fingers still locked on her lips. Justin stood, watching her in confusion, hearing faint laughter. Apparently she had been dared to speak with him. He swept a minute more, then switched to restocking the shelves. He knew people often hired others to do those jobs, but he had never seen the point, especially since his store was small as it was. He had just finished when the bell rang, saying someone had entered. He could sense the person approaching behind him.

"I'm sorry," he said, turning. "But I'm about to close for…" he trailed off, eyes growing wide. Standing before him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had long, fine hair that was the same shade as her sultry black eyes. Her full scarlet lips curled into a grin; apparently he wasn't the only one who liked what he saw. She ran a nail down his arm, bringing him from his trance. He shook his head, barely remembering the half-full box in his grasp.

"I know," she whispered. Her voice was music to his ears. "And that's why I'm here," she blushed, twirling her hair through her fingers. "I was wondering if I could treat you to lunch at the café, to thank you for saving my sister."

"That was your sister?" his voice was unfamiliar, almost like someone else's.

She nodded. "I asked her to do it first, since I was so nervous, but apparently I only embarrassed her."

He laughed. "Though I don't get what's so hard for you," he said. He knelt down to place the box on the floor. "After all, I'm no different than any other guy out there."

She giggled. "You're cute, and most girls get nervous around good-looking men."

He smiled, giving a small shrug. "Just let me close up," he told her. "It shouldn't take long."

Teresa coughed, holding her stomach as she weakly stared at the person above her, the one who'd been abusing her since her capture. Her siblings were tied and gagged, huddled in one corner of the tiny room, forced to watch as their sister was brutally raped and beaten, unable to do anything to help her. They weren't even sure how they had ended up in their prison.

They had been kidnapped, one by one, and transported to the human world, where shadowed forms had proceeded to torture them daily, as though trying to extract information. They never asked questions, they rarely even spoke, the only sounds being whimpers and frightened screams.

"Please," she whispered. Blood trickled from the corner of her lip, tears dripped from her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Her question went unanswered, but the man stopped in his torture. He looked blankly down at her, unsure of how to feel. His orders had been to kill them, oldest to youngest; tossing their remains into the valley they called home, as a vile warning to Justin and his kind. But he knew they didn't deserve it, having seen them grow up, having been nearby on the day their father was murdered. He wanted to stop, but found he was unable.

_Don't even try to disobey, _a dark voice snapped in his head. It was that of his master, the one who had ordered their capture.

_But they are mere children, _he replied. _They do not deserve such a fate._

A sharp pain filtered past his skull, but he remained on his feet. _I'm going to break free, _he vowed. The pain made the beating last longer than usual, but he fled from the room once it had faded, completely ashamed. He had never wanted to live this way, but fate had forced him. He just hoped fate would also offer him a way to escape. He ignored the mocking laughs that followed him, shoving open a rusted door, fleeing into the forest. The dappled light made him feel cool and warm at the same time, but he wished to feel nothing, for the life to be ripped from his veins. But he knew that, so long as he stayed beneath his master's control, death was impossible.

_I have to get away, _he thought. The sounds of the city began to filter through his head, blocking out any connection his leader had with him. He'd thought often of staying, but every hour he was gone made him feel weaker, and besides, there were always people after him, and they always brought him back.

_This has to end soon, _he thought desperately. _Otherwise, I fear I may lose the last of my sanity._

Justin was shocked to hear laughter come from his lips. He was in the middle of a frightening search, and here he was, enjoying himself with a woman he barely even knew. She was telling him about the town, what went on, who belonged where. She'd just finished her explanation when he noticed something, a flash of movement from the corner of his eye. He turned, seeing a group of people loitering near a dark alleyway. There were seven of them, each one different in appearance, yet they seemed to be siblings. Standing closest to the wall was a young girl, probably eight or nine years old, with long white hair and pale blue eyes. Though she was the youngest, she appeared the most mature. Her skin was very fair, almost ivory. The second was a tall, obese man with a large Coke, a hungry look in his pale grey eyes. His skin was darkly tan, shirt pulled tightly across his wide shoulders and enormous belly. A slim trail of saliva was trailing his chin from the corner of his lower lip.

The third was just as tall, but he was slender and agile, dressed in light brown with tan skin, green eyes wild with mischief. But what caught his gaze most was the female standing beside him. Her violet eyes seemed to glide over every man that walked by, lips curling in a seductive grin whenever they looked back. She wore a tight dress that showed off her smooth curves, the low neckline barely held her chest. Leaning against the wall with the child, hands shoved in his pockets, was a large man in a long jacket, his dark brown eyes nearly hidden by the wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his face. He looked dangerous, yet seemed frightened of the woman leaning on him.

Her long black hair hung loose on her smooth shoulders, blending with her dark dress and emphasizing her pale skin. Her glaring eyes were narrowed and red, lids and nails painted to match. Men speaking with her sister quickly shed away when their gaze met hers. The last of them was also male, leaning back against the wall with his arms folded over his wide chest. His yellow eyes flashed at whoever dared pass them, especially if they jeered at his siblings. His perfect tan only seemed to add to the air of command that surrounded him.

"Who are they?" he turned to the woman beside him, who only shrugged.

"They're trouble," she said quietly, fear in her voice. She shivered slightly before finally revealing their name. "They're the Sins."

"The Sins?" he asked.

She nodded. "Their parents were strange," she explained. "They never went to church, and could more often be seen in bars around the city."

"What happened to them?"

Her curls bounced as her head shook. "They disappeared soon after their last child was born. Many of the people here think they committed suicide because they couldn't handle their children," she looked around, lowering her voice to a whisper. "But I think it was Pride. He's the oldest. I think he killed them, or got his siblings to do it."

He thought about it, glancing back to the group as they wandered off down the street. It seemed likely. He felt her slim fingers curl through his, her hair brushing his neck as she sighed in his shoulder.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" she asked. "I really don't like being alone at night. I've been frightened for my life ever since my fiancé left."

He gazed at her, seeing genuine fear in her perfect face, feeling pity well in his heart. He knew he had something else to do that night, but he couldn't help when he nodded. She smiled gratefully, moving closer to him. Neither noticed the dark pairs of eyes glaring in their direction.

Her apartment was on the first floor of a lower middle-class complex, with two small potted plants flanking the front door. On the ground was a thin mat with the words "Wipe your Feet" printed in faded blue letters. The door was plain white with a small peep hole carved in the wood. Her keys rattled loosely in the lock as she pushed the door open. The interior looked strangely familiar.

The floor was grey tile spattered with tan, the walls swirled to match. The front room contained simple furniture; a couch and chair colored dark blue. A rusty red rug covered the floor, curtains dyed to match. A slightly open door near the back revealed a glimpse of a wooden bed with a dark green cover. He realized that it was very similar to his apartment back in Thorn Valley, but how could she know such things?

"Are you hungry?" she asked. She poked her head out of the kitchen, which held the appearance of a set in an old movie. He shook his head, instead becoming lost in nostalgia as fragments of memory washed through his mind. The pain was enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he fought to suppress his emotions. He barely saw her slim form reenter, holding a small tray in her nervous grasp. She set it down on the low table, wiping her hands on her skirt.

"How long have you lived here?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I actually don't know," she began. Her fingers twirled through the loose curls of her hair. "My boyfriend worked for NIMH," she continued. "We moved here soon after it was shut down. He vanished a short while later."

"Did anything strange happen before then?"

"Well, shortly before he disappeared, he began going out at night and wouldn't come back until dawn, and one of the children-"

"You have children?" he asked quickly.

She nodded. "But I had to put them in a home because I couldn't properly care for them; and now that I can they're nowhere to be found…" her voice broke. She buried her face in her hands; Justin led her to the couch, sitting beside her, trying to comfort her. He wrapped his arm loosely around her, running his hand through her soft hair. She gazed up at him, seeing his dark eyes, his perfect smile, suddenly feeling her heart race in her chest, recalling how long it had been since he'd held her. The sky darkened in the silence that passed, and a small yawn slipped from her lips.

"You must be tired," she said quietly. She stood, gripping his hand, pulling him toward a slightly open door. The lights were off, the lock clicked as they entered. She turned to him, eyes shining, a soft grin playing at her mouth. The sadness faded from her face.

She reached up, clasping his hands on her waist, wrapping her arms loosely about his shoulders. Her sultry black eyes bored into his, making him nearly forget the one he had left behind. Her mouth crushed his, her tongue forcing his lips to part as she ripped the shirt from his chest, running her hands down his smooth skin. Her touch brought Natasha to mind, her kisses that were honey but sweeter, fire yet hotter, how the merest pass of her hands brought his passion to a raging boil. This woman did nothing, but for some reason he had no choice but to comply with her wishes.

She slowly pulled the dress from her shoulders, gazing in his eyes, forcing his hands to curl under her breasts as she pulled him to her bed. He knew exactly what she had in mind, and roughly pulled away. She sat up, bewildered as her silky garment continued to fall. "Do you know who I am?" she asked; Justin turned away, bringing his shirt across his shoulders, though not bothering to button it up. He didn't reply. "Justin, it's me, Natasha."

"What?" he turned quickly, stunned as her eyes returned to a gorgeous blue. He shook his head, trying to keep his thoughts straight. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I knew you wouldn't believe me," she said. Her face lowered to hands clasped in her lap. In minutes she looked up. "What's happened to us?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know," he said quietly. He did, though. It was yet another side effect of the injections at NIMH. He remembered clearly what had happened, how he'd been able to beat Remington, prevent him from finishing his horrid plan. He remembered becoming human soon after the fight had begun, his wounds forgotten until he'd turned back to his natural form. Then he'd woken up in the colony, feeling the weakest he had in years. But_ she'd _been there that time, helping him through the recovery. Unlike the first girl he'd fallen in love with. Amelia hadn't been his wife, far from it, and she hadn't died in labor.

_I killed her, _he thought. _After finding out the truth about her. _Amelia had been cheating on him since the night they first kissed, and the child she claimed to have lost hadn't been his. Instead, it had been Cadrian's. And she hadn't been his only victim. Yet unlike the Estrella asesino, he had left no mark to let them know who he was. He was ashamed to have let the darkness in his heart rule him for that amount of time, even if he had "cleansed the community", as some put it.

"Is something wrong?" she asked innocently. He shook his head.

"Just a stain of the past," he said quietly. "Nothing to care about now." She couldn't miss the shame in his eyes, but knew not to probe. Instead she sat quietly, waiting until he was ready to talk. "Was that you?"

"Hm?" she looked up, confused.

"That girl in my shop the night it burned down. Was that you?"

She stared at him, then suddenly nodded. "Oh, yes, that was me," she said, then added, "Tú me vio más de una vez, pero nunca me pareció reconocer."

"¿Se puede hablar español?" he asked, a bit shocked. She laughed.

"Sí, mi padre llegó aquí en un barco desde España. Él se aseguró de que hablaba con fluidez."

She was shocked by his sudden movement. One moment he was near the door, the next he was leaning over her, hands pressed to the bed. There was a mischievous gleam in his gorgeous dark eyes. His breath was warm on her cheeks as he hissed, "How come I've never heard you speak it before?"

She smiled. "I didn't know you could until now," she pulled him closer, kissing him deeply; but for some reason he was slow to return it. He was worried about the missing children, and wondering where on earth they could be, and if they too had been turned into humans.

"Have you seen any sign of them?" he asked quietly. She shook her head, closing the collar of her dress. Now was no time for such things.

"No, and I've searched everywhere I've been able to."

"The only thing I've found is this," he pulled Teresa's ribbon from his pocket, explaining how he'd discovered it.

"Do you think we'll ever find them?" she asked. Tears had formed quickly, slipping from her eyes as she thought of their situation. It seemed completely hopeless. He sighed, sitting down on the bed beside her.

"I can't say for sure," he said, taking her hand. "But I'm going to do everything I can."

She gazed at him, sniffing quietly, resting her head on his chest. The beat of his heart was an assuring sound. She felt his arm wrap around her, his other hand stroking her cheek. "Natasha," he whispered. She wouldn't look at him, feeling ashamed for a scheme she'd had no part in.

"Natasha," he said again, and gently forced her to face him. Her eyes shone with guilt. "This isn't your fault," he whispered to her. "None of this is."

"Then why do I feel so guilty?" she asked, gripping his shirt. His arms wrapped around her.

"We did all we could to protect them," he assured her. "But I promise you," his grip tightened. "Whoever did this is going to pay dearly, especially if any of the children have been hurt."

She kept sobbing, wishing she could just disappear.


End file.
